


From Where You Are

by RainsOfNeptune



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainsOfNeptune/pseuds/RainsOfNeptune
Summary: Hope and Josie meet at the county fair and it's been a while.The original story belongs to @ _talkingsweet on twitter.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Josie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Maya Machado/Penelope Park
Comments: 45
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is not my story. I just put in the characters and made them fit into the story.

It was MG's idea to go to the fair, and with much credit all of his spastic and vociferous pleading, he managed to annoy everyone else into agreeing to tag along.

Hope's mostly going because Pen is going, and Pen is mostly going because Maya said she might make an appearance. Typical, Hope thinks, watching her best friend glance around in what she believes to be a casual way.

It's not that Hope hates fairs—she loves them, really; she delights in the bright lights and the laughter that seems to push at her ears from all sides. It's a happy place, or at least somewhere people go to be happy, and it's the kind of atmosphere Hope would stay in forever if she could. There are few things Hope loves more than happy people, and the variety of fried food at her disposal is nothing if not a plus.

Never let it be said that Hope doesn't like the way fairs make her feel. But let it be known far and wide that she won't touch those rides that shoot up a million feet in the air, nor will she mess with the ones that spin in circles so quickly, she feels sick just from looking at them.

The group of teenagers lap the fairgrounds twice before they decide to start out easy with the Pharaoh ride. Hope doesn't like that one—doesn't like the sensation of flying anymore than actually flying—so she decides to stand near the exit holding two big jackets and one watered down Mountain Dew. She almost regrets coming. She's never been a huge fan of fair rides save the Ferris wheel and Tilt-A-Whirl, but it's better than spending her Friday night doing the homework due Monday, she guesses.

Her friends get off the ride, all of their hair sticking up in a few different directions. Pen ruffles Hope's hair up for good measure, then they all dash off to the Ring of Fire.

Hope stares up at it, contemplating; it would be totally safe to drape all of their belongings over the fence surrounding the ride, of course, so there doesn't have to be a man left behind every time they ride something. Not to mention the fact that Hope bought the unlimited riding wristband alongside everyone else, even if most of the rides are far too dangerous for her taste.

"You coming?" Pen questions, a few steps away. Hope opens her mouth and closes it, and even though she doesn't say anything, her best friend still understands somehow. "Hey, if you're not up to it, it's fine. I know you get a little... you know."

Hope, predictably, feels like a loser—like the one teenager in all of the park who doesn't want to do something reckless, who doesn't like the way wind feels on her face. "I think I'll go get something to eat. Meet you guys after?"

Pen smiles kindly and pats her on the shoulder. "Of course. I'll make sure we ride the Ferris wheel before the night's over, too. I know you like that the most."

Hope gives a short nod, seeing a few more people saunter up to the Ring of Fire. "You better hurry before all the seats are filled."

It takes her a while to find a place that has any hot chocolate left, since it's past eleven and most families have already come and gone after consuming the majority of the fair's supply of warm drinks. It's not much, just chocolate mix poured into some hot water, and the marshmallows have already melted into little white dots of foam, but it cheers Hope up anyways. After all, she's drinking hot chocolate while all of her friends are upside down on a death trap of a ride.

Someone bumps into her from behind and Hope hears a chorus of laughter before she turns. Her hand hurts a little, since some hot chocolate spilled upon the collision, but it's not something she can't handle.

"Sorry," the person says, their head turned away from her. Their presence feels familiar—like maybe she's been around them before, like maybe she's heard their voice or their laugh. "My friends are a little... pushy."

Hope smiles at what might or might not have been a pun. "It's fine," she answers, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. It's still boiling hot. Her unintended assailant turns away from their friends to look at her, finally, and Hope nearly spits.

"Oh, Hope," Josie says, pleasantly surprised. "Haven't seen you for a while, partner."

Hope's chest hurts a little, and she's not sure if it's from the scalding hot chocolate or the brunette in front of her. "Yeah, it's been a while since—"

"Since chemistry, sophomore year," she interrupts, and Hope nods. "Yeah, that was a fun class. I always liked chemistry." She must make a face, because Josie laughs at her, pretty pink lips parting to show white teeth. Hope is momentarily entranced. "I can't remember you liking it half as much as I did."

"Was a little miserable," Hope admits, though it's an understatement. She was awful at chemistry, barely scraping by with Ds. The only good thing about the class was Josie—smart, wonderful Josie who helped her through the vast majority of the worksheets that might as well have been in another language, for all of Hope's understanding of the subject.

"Well, at least you passed, so it's over and done with now," she says, a small smile still tugging at her lips. Hope watches as the brunette zips up her jacket, conscious of the fact that she left hers in her car. She kind of wishes she didn't, just so she could have something to tuck her face into, or at the very least serve as a distraction.

"Guess I have you to thank for that," she replies, smiling back tightly when Josie beams. She’s seen the tall brunette almost every day at school for the past five years, and the only time she's ever talked to her is when they were chemistry lab partners for what might have been the best 9 weeks of her life. There was the occasional hello when they ran into each other during assemblies since, but other than that, Hope hadn't gathered the guts to make it abundantly clear to Josie that she wants to be her friend. (And she does want to be her friend—Josie's a good ally to have, for one, and she also feels both smarter and less intelligent just by standing near the other girl. Josie gives her good vibes. Hope's always loved people like that.)

It looks like Josie's about to say something, and Hope's prepared to hang onto every word she utters, but one of her friends clears their throat without a hint of subtlety. "Oh, right," Josie says, like she can't believe herself for being so rude. "This is Hope, guys. And that's Lizzie, MG, Kaleb, and—"

"Maya," Hope says with a knowing smile, eyes catching on the shortest of the group. "Pen is looking for you."

"Of course she is," one of them says, but Hope isn't sure who. Maya blushes a little, tucking a chunk of her dark hair behind her ear.

"I was actually about to go find them, if you want to come with?" Hope was mostly directing the question towards Maya, but the entire group takes it as an invitation. They begin to walk; Josie stays closer to her while the others drag a little behind.

"So..." Josie clears her throat, and Hope wishes she would pay attention during her mom's silly romantic comedies on movie night. Maybe then she'd know how to talk to a girl. "Having fun?"

Hope nods immediately, swirling her hot chocolate and carefully stepping over a bundle of thick cords stretching across the walkway. There's a lot of things Hope wants to do in front of Josie, but most of them involve impressing her and not tripping face-first into the cold, wet grass. "Yeah, I guess. You?"

The brunette shrugs and her elbow hits hers. Hope tries her best not to grin at that, but she's never been one for success. "I'm not a huge fan of fairs, personally, but I was physically dragged from my home tonight by them." She tips her head back, gesturing to her friends, and Hope smiles a little. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," Hope says, raising her eyebrows at her. "Just—no parties to attend? Dates to run off on? Family dinners to sit through?"

"That was sophomore year," Josie says with a sigh. It sounds mostly relieved, but maybe a little wistful, too. "I'm a little more boring now. I read a lot."

"That's—" Hope searches for a word. "Um, that's good. Reading is good for you."

Josie sends her an amused look. "Do you read, Hope?"

She knows she's teasing her, and she can feel her cheeks heating up. "A—sometimes. A little."

"What's your favorite book?"

"I—" Hope wishes she had a title in her mind—something impressive, something that would make Josie look at her like she's surprised, but happy she said something. "Um, The Edge of Us?"

Josie raises an eyebrow, directly translating to an unspoken are you messing with me? Hope keeps a straight face. "By whom?"

"Hayley... Marshall," Hope says, admitting defeat.

Josie snorts, her eyes closing briefly as she laughs at her. "Your mother's book? Really?"

"Well, I didn't have a proper answer!" Hope says, laughing with her. "I figured I could at least promo my mom when I had the chance."

"Unbelievable," Josie says, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling, and holding her gaze. Hope breaks it first, idly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and staring down at her toes. Josie's no less blinding than she was two years ago.

"There you are, Hope," Pen says appearing on Hope's other side. She leans past her, waving at Josie. "Hey, you. Doing alright?"

Josie nods, bangs falling to cover her eyes. She shoves them out of the way with a hint of frustration, and Hope has a feeling she's not supposed to find that somewhat cute. "And you? I heard you were looking for a certain someone."

"I absolutely was not," Pen says, though not without a less than amicable clap on Hope's back. Hope smiles serenely at her best friend, tilting her head to Maya as if to say, go get 'em, Tiger. "I'll talk to you two later."

She goes to Maya, after that, and Hope and Josie share a smug smile. They always were a good team, even back in their chemistry lab days. "They're going to date, aren't they?" Hope questions quietly, watching Pen shrug off his jacket for Maya as she rubs her arms to warm herself up.

"Of course they are," Josie says, a little fond.

"Hey, guys, we're going to go hit the Double Shot," MG calls from where he stands between Lizzie and Alyssa, arms reached out to wrap around both of the girls shoulders. They both look vaguely annoyed but mostly indifferent to MG’s antics.

"I think I'll pass," Hope says, at the same time Josie says, "I hate that one."

"Right, well you two can wallow in your utter lame-ity," Kaleb says, sending them a smile to let them know that he doesn't mean it. "We'll catch up soon."

"Lame-ity isn't a word, Kaleb," Josie informs him with an eye roll, her cheeks a little pink from the cold. Hope looks away, letting her eyes fall on the nearest spinning ride to distract herself. "Call us if you need us."

"Will do," Kaleb replies, saluting them before he jogs ahead to pounce on MG’s back, nearly making him, along with Alyssa and Lizzie, fall. They laugh, and Hope smiles at the group.

"It's been a while since we all hung out," Josie notes, and Hope nods. Sure, they've met up in pairs and trios here and there, but it's been a long time since they had the whole gang.

"Would have been the year before the last, right? During that trip to the museum." The trip where we got lost because we sneaked off to the Greek and Roman section while everyone else stayed on the tour. You talked us out of getting in trouble with our teacher.

"That was a fun field trip," Josie says, glancing over at her. She doesn't say so, but Hope knows the brunette remembers wandering off together just as much as she does.

"Really fun," Hope agrees, pointlessly. She remembers Josie reaching out to touch a marble statue of Hestia, and she remembers not bothering to mention that they weren't allowed to touch the exhibits, just because Josie looked so full of curiosity.

"Are you still going to go to school for that?" Josie asks now, just as curious as she was at the museum. "I know it means a lot to you."

Hope shrugs shyly. "Might minor in it."

She smiles to herself, shaking her head. "You do realize that you almost never speak in full sentences, right?"

"Didn't realize," Hope says, then she gives a sheepish smile. "Oh. Guess I do. I mean, I guess I do."

They both laugh for a second, falling quiet just quickly enough to make Hope feel awkward. She wishes she had more to say, if only to keep Josie from regretting she stayed back with her.

"How are you?" Hope asks, after a while, when they've stopped to watch a ride as it spins in rapid circles, eliciting screams from those on it. She’s heard that a lot of fair rides make people feel alive—give them a rush. They really just make Hope feel sick.

"I'm alright, a little cold. Aren't you cold?"

Hope shrugs. Her sweater is thick enough, for the most part, and she's wearing another long sleeve shirt underneath it. "'S fine. But, uh, how are you overall? Not just right now, but in general?" I remember you had a tough time with your parents sophomore year. I hope it's worked itself out.

"I'm... better." She nods to herself, raising her eyebrows when a particularly high-pitched scream interrupts her. "Mom and Dad got divorced the summer of sophomore year."

Hope's heart sinks for her, and she drops her eyes to the patchy grass, digging the toe of her shoe into the dirt. "That—That really sucks. And I'm sorry that you had to go through it."

"It's not your fault, Hope," Josie says, nothing but genuine. "Thank you, though."

There's a lull in the conversation, and Hope feels like she's dampened the other girl’s mood, like Josie's whole night might be ruined if she doesn't do something about it.

"You like the Ferris wheel?" Hope finds herself asking, without really thinking too much about the implications of the words.

"I can't say I'm the biggest fan of heights," Josie says, almost apologetic.

Hope nods immediately. "I know the feeling, believe me. Nearly died of fear when I first got on a plane." She gives a little self-deprecating chuckle, remembering the irritated sighs of the woman beside her, the stewardess who hovered by her side for a good portion of the flight, making sure that she didn't get sick on other fliers. "Like the Ferris wheel, though. Good view."

"Riveting as your sentence fragments are," Josie says with a smirk, "I'd really like to get some cotton candy."

"I'll walk with you," Hope offers, half because she doesn't want her to go alone and half because she doesn't want to be alone.

"Thanks," Josie replies, pushing her hands inside her jacket pockets. "It sucks to be alone at places like these, I'd think."

Hope hums like she agrees, though she isn't really sure what she means. "It would be lonely."

"You're a woman of even fewer words than I remember." She sounds a lot teasing and a little something else, but Hope has trouble pinning it down.

"It was chemistry," she tries to explain. "I had a lot of questions. And I was a sophomore, which means I was at least double the amount of annoying I am now. Probably talked your ear off."

"Either you didn't, or I didn't mind," Josie responds, nudging her with her elbow. "There's everyone else, over there, if you want to join them. I can walk the rest of the way myself."

Hope opens up her mouth to tell her that it's fine, that she doesn't mind spending a few more minutes by Josie’s side, but then she realizes the nearest food stand is maybe five feet away and she might come off as a little, well, stupid. She nods. "Alright. I'll see you."

She comes up behind Pen and shoves her cold hand beneath her best friend's collar, laughing when she jumps a good foot in the air. "You fucker," the raven-haired girl says, distrust in her eyes.

"It was just an excuse to fondle you, simmer down," Hope jokes, rolling her eyes at her friend. "How was the—what was it, Double Shot?"

"Absolutely terrifying," Pen says with a manic little grin. "But, that's the fun in it, I guess. Not knowing when you're about to plummet to the bottom of the ride. Nothing gets the blood pumping like the potential for death."

"Someone's feeling morbid tonight," Maya says mildly, giving Pen a bewildered look. She shrugs, offering up an explanation of marathoning scary movies with Alyssa the weekend before.

"The fair closes at 1 AM," Jed announces to the group at large. "We can probably hit, like, three more rides with all of the lines."

"Ferris wheel last," Hope suggests. "That's all I care about."

"Yes, Hope, we know about your weird obsession with the lamest ride here."

Hope frowns at Alyssa. "It's not lame—"

"Just clichéd," Josie puts in, appearing next to Lizzie. Hope narrows her eyes at her while she innocently pulls off a little cloud of cotton candy. "It's not a bad thing; it just is."

"At least my ride has a lower death rate," Hope grumbles, and either no one hears her or they don't believe it deserves a response.

Someone drops a mention of Gravitron, and it's only a few minutes before their group stands before the spaceship-like ride, chatting among themselves while they wait for their turn. Hope watches the ride spin with nauseating rapidity, eventually turning to watch a guy throw rings at bottles in an attempt to win some cheap stuffed animal that'll probably start threading in a week.

The child at his heel squeals in delight when she gets one of the smallest prizes available, the man only managing to land one ring on a bottleneck, and Hope can't remember being that grateful as a child. She's got to be a good kid, one of those that people never mind having around, regardless of age and whether or not they like children at all.

"What are you thinking about so deeply over here?" Josie says from somewhere behind her. Hope glances over her shoulder, and when she looks back to the booth, the man and his kid are nowhere to be seen.

"Nothing, just didn't want to look at the ride anymore. It was making me kind of dizzy." Hope nearly smacks her palm to her forehead, feeling weak and idiotic for admitting that she's pretty squeamish, as far as fast moving objects and heights go. Pop in the goriest movie you can think of, and Hope'll barely blink an eye, but threaten to push her on the Ring of Fire and she'll probably faint before you can even escort her to her seat.

"It's actually fun, I promise," Josie says. "You don't really feel the spinning because you're going so fast."

"Ugh," Hope mutters, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand. "How do people get a kick out of this stuff, honestly?"

Josie hums in agreement, glancing at the line to make sure their group doesn't go on without her. "I've gathered that Pen is a bit of an amusement park junkie?"

"She is." Hope remembers the eighth grade field trip to Busch Gardens, and the soccer team trip to Universal Studios. Pen certainly has a thing for adrenaline. "I think the feeling reminds her of performing."

"She performs?"

"Yeah, like, in a band."

"Oh." Josie scuffs her foot on the ground. "Who else is in the band?"

"I was, originally," Hope mentions off-handedly. "But that was a long time ago. It's just her, Raf, and this college drop-out Landon now. They're really good."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. I just decided I didn't want to be in it anymore, since I didn't contribute a whole lot. I still help Pen with songwriting here and there, though."

"I meant, like," Josie gestures like she isn't sure how to word what she's saying. "Did you play an instrument, or…?"

"Oh!" Hope coughs even if her throat doesn't have an itch, pulling her long sleeves down until they're about mid-palm. "Mostly bass or guitar. Sang a teensy bit, but not much more than that. Pen is better at guitar than I am. And, well, you've heard her voice, I'm sure. Sounds like a damn angel. But, like, a sexier one." Oh, God, Hope thinks, in absolute dismay. What am I even saying?

"A sexy angel," Josie muses. "An apt description. I had no clue angels had access to so much hair dye."

Hope laughs so hard, her ribs hurt a little. Josie laughs, too, but mostly she just looks happy that she made her laugh. Hope finds that it's easy to remember why she wanted—wants—to be Josie's friend as bad as she does.

"You'll miss your ride," she says, after her chuckles have mostly died out. There's still a small smile that won't leave her face.

"I've been on it before," Josie responds with a one-shouldered shrug, seemingly unconcerned. "I'd much rather talk about sexy angels."

"What have I done?" Hope asks, rubbing her forehead, pretending to be a lot more regretful than she really is. Hope doesn't really mind when Josie teases her, or, at least, she doesn't mind as much as she should. "I'm not going to live this down, am I?"

"Of course not," Josie says easily. "Where would be the fun in that?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no Hosie in this chapter so I figured I'd post ot instead of waiting.

The Ferris wheel is always at the very front of their county fair, since it's usually either the first thing people ride or the last thing they do before they leave. Hope sees a line stretching out for a while, but she doesn't mind waiting in the queue so long as she gets her turn.

When it finally gets to them, they section off into groups of various numbers, Hope graciously getting shoved into a cart with Pen and Maya and Alyssa rather than a stranger she'd have to make small talk with. Alyssa lets Hope sit on the right side of the carriage because she's a great friend, and Hope leans her head over the side with excitement.

"You're such a kid," Pen says, kicking Hope's shin.

"No, I'm not," Hope says, undermining her own reply with the way she sticks out her tongue petulantly. "I just like how everything gets smaller. It's relaxing."

"And yet, you won't even touch the Double Shot."

"I like everything getting smaller at a...slower rate," Hope decides, thinking of how quickly the Double Shot shoots up and down. "With that ride, you're too busy fearing your death to appreciate the view."

"A valid point," Maya comments. "I think I screamed the whole time."

"You did," Pen tells her drily. "My ears are still ringing."

Hope watches them for a second, happy that her best friend is happy. If anyone deserves a sweet girl, it's Pen. Maya’s just the kind of stability Pen needs most days, and Hope doesn't think there's anyone who fits with her as well as Maya does. It's easy to get along with her, sure, but she's not the easiest person to mesh with.

The lights aren't as dizzying from a distance; they're less in her face and more pleasing to the eye. Hope's having one of those moments where she's thinking about everything and simultaneously nothing at all, where her mind is rushing around something but not giving her long enough to process it. She can see all the people milling around, headcount dwindling at it draws closer to closing time—can see people running and some moving to take a seat, can see small kids holding onto their parent's hand, can see groups just like them walking around with their hands in their pockets since they were too cool to bundle up appropriately for the weather. Hope loves people-watching. She wonders if there's any job openings for professional people-watchers.

"She’s doing it," Pen stage-whispers to Maya, eyeing Hope nervously.

Hope scowls. "What am I doing?"

"Getting your philosophical look," Alyssa replies. "You always do on this stupid ride."

"One day, you too will see the magic of the Ferris wheel," Hope says, but to be honest, she thinks one has to have a taste for the ride. Maybe they like the scary ones, but she's more than content to go less than ten miles per hour in a tame circle, no more than 60 feet from the ground.

"You're stupid," Alyssa grumbles, clearly a bit cranky. Hope knows she doesn't mean it, so she opts for throwing an arm around the girl’s shoulder just to annoy her more.

"What's with the attitude? Is it past your bedtime?" Pen teases, crossing her arms and poking out her bottom lip to copy Alyssa's sullen demeanor.

Alyssa has murder in her eyes. Hope goes for casual when she pulls her arm back into her own personal space.

By the time they're forced to step out of their carriage, the night's cooled even more, being about twenty minutes until 1 AM. Hope has a feeling she won't get to sleep until at least 3 in the morning, and her thoughts are confirmed when Pen announces that she needs an icee from the nearest convenience store. Most everyone agrees that they could use a drink, too.

There's a lot of things Hope hates about being a teenager—being ridiculed, the obligation of high school, and general teenage angst just to name a few—but the feeling of staying out late with good friends isn't one of them. Hope has little, if any, experience of being a teenager like they show it in the movies, but late nights like these give her something to pen down in her memories as adolescent bliss.

They pile into their respective cars, most of them promising to meet up at the gas station; Jed, Raf, and Alyssa decide to head home, saying that their parents are waiting for them, but they all vow to hang out again soon. Hope can't help but think it's nice to have more friends—more members in her small crowd of people she loves being around. At least she'll have people beyond Pen to reminisce with at their high school reunions.

She gets home at half-past two. Her mom left her a note directing her to her dinner plate in the microwave, tacking on her customary 'love you, hope you had fun!' Hope stares at it for a while before she tucks it into her pocket, for some reason feeling compelled to keep the insignificant note, and warms up her lasagna.

There are few things more satisfying than lasagna at 3 AM, Hope learns. One of those things is falling asleep directly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all should totally follow my Twitter @RainsOfNeptune :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might just do double updates from now on but we'll see.

It's just hit noon on Sunday when Hope gets the text.

It's still the same exact name that she entered in sophomore year, still a plaintive "Josie S." Hope narrows her eyes and checks the number in her contacts just to make sure Pen hasn't changed her name to mess with her, and eventually accepts the fact that Josie's texted her, for whatever reason  
.  
Hi, it says. That's it.

Hope pushes her phone aside and keeps up her attempts at finishing her essay. English 4 is supposed to be easy, she complains mentally. At this rate, she won't graduate.

Despite her extremely studious research (in which she was both reading Wikipedia articles and playing Solitaire, that is), she still has no clue why Mark Twain was so important as far as literature goes. She does, however, come to the conclusion that she'll never be good at Solitaire.

Hope selects a sentence from the Wikipedia article and pastes it directly into her essay. She modifies it, putting the end of the sentence at the beginning, and exchanges the words "light and humorous" to say "light-hearted." A true genius, she is.

Before she can decide where to go from there, Hope glances over to her phone, biting down on her bottom lip. It's not that she doesn't want to talk to Josie—since Friday, she's kind of wanted to talk to her non-stop—but she didn't expect her to text first. It admittedly throws her off.

What would Mark Twain do? Hope thinks idly, staring at the guy's name where it sits, bolded, at the top of his paper. For one, Mark Twain wasn't ever introduced to cell phones, so he probably wouldn't even know how to reply to the text, even if he wanted to. And, for two, Mark Twain doesn't really seem like the kind of man who would talk to the girl he likes over text. Hope gets the vibe that he's a really old-fashioned, straightforward type of guy.

Leaning back in her desk chair to stretch, Hope groans. Thinking about Mark Twain probably won't get her through this one.

She replies with a hey there, momentarily panicking at how flirtatious it sounds. She tries to cover it up with Josie, right?

It apparently works, since she sends back a Yeah, it is. I didn't know if you had my number anymore.

wouldnt have deleted it, Hope types immediately. She’s hovering over the blue button, considering going with something else—less heartfelt, maybe—to respond with, but instead she accidentally hits send. Wonderful. Out of curiosity, she scrolls up past the texts they're exchanging now and reads through the ones they sent before. She hardly remembers the near two-year old conversations, mostly homework questions or her wondering if there's a test the next day, but there's a few that are just… nice, for lack of a better word. Caring little ‘how are you’s from Hope and some remember to bring your book to classes from Josie. Hope wishes she could remember why she didn't try to get in touch with her that summer, and now she feels sorry that she didn't—after all, she could have been someone to talk to when Josie was going through a mess with her parents.

She wants to apologize for it, suddenly, but she figures Josie would either shrug it off or tell her ten times over that it isn't her fault. She doesn't bother.

That's comforting. Hope blinks at Josie's reply, but she doesn't give her a chance to reply before another text comes through. Are you busy?

She smiles a little at her phone. Sure, she totally has this essay due tomorrow that'll take her a few hours at the very least, but Josie's far more interesting and appealing than Mark Twain's influence on literature. not at all, she sends.

I could use a little help with economics, if you're up for it…

Economics is by far Hope's easiest class this year, but she doubts she's better at it than Josie. She doesn't mention that.

sure, she replies. but youre gonna tell me everything you know about mark twain

She sends two question marks back, but tacks on Deal a second later.

where at? Hope asks, holding her phone about an inch away from her face. It's likely that she's one of the more pathetic people in this world.

Yours? I can't say that my house is the most welcoming of places for guests, Josie says, and Hope frowns a little at that. She doesn't waste any time before sending the girl her address and telling her to come over whenever she feels like it. She doesn't really say it, but it's an invitation for any day—not just a Sunday where they both have homework to get done.

Josie gives her an estimated arrival time anyways, so Hope spends her remaining moments wisely by hopping in the shower and letting her mom know that she's having a friend over. Her mom is cooped up in her small little cranny of an office, feet tucked beneath her as she types away on her laptop, a cooled cup of tea at her elbow. "Of course, that's fine, Hope. You can have Pen over whenever, you know. No need to keep asking."

"It's—" Hope hesitates, resting her temple on the door frame she's leaning against. "Um, not Pen this time."

That gets her mother's attention. She turns to Hope with a pleased smile. "Oh, what a surprise! I haven't seen Rafael in ages, I should put some cookies in."

Hope chuckles, pushing her still-damp hair out of her behind her ear. "Not Raf, either. It's Josie—remember, my chem partner? Came over once for our research paper?"

Sally gives her a maternal grin, lifting her eyebrows. "Oh, I always liked her." She redirects her gaze to her computer. "I had a feeling I wasn't the only one, either."

"Mom," Hope warns.

She holds her hands up, a clear white flag. "I'm not suggesting anything. Just your dear old Mom over here, typing up a novel."

"It'll be the best one yet," Hope says, since she knows Mom thrives under encouragement. "I have a feeling. It'll be the one."

"You think?" Sally asks, and she sounds excited, like she agrees. Hope nods with a grin. "Oh, that would be so great, I—" The doorbell dings throughout their home, and her mom's mouth snaps shut. "That would be for you, I'm guessing. Let me know if you need anything, sweetie."

"Thanks, Mom," Hope says, but she makes sure to shut her office door, partially to preserve her own privacy, but mostly because she knows her mom needs isolation when she's in writing mode. She gets the door.

Josie's dressed casually, which is something Hope hadn't even considered; she tossed on track pants out of habit. "Hey," she greets, after a sure but still moment of silence. "Come on in."

"Hi. Thanks."

Hope shrugs mutely, closing the door behind her. She can definitely, one hundred per cent, handle Josie's presence for a few hours, especially after a good night of sleep and a day spent lazing around. "Thirsty?"

"Water would be great," she answers, and it's a little awkward for a few seconds while Hope leads them into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for a cup. She usually drinks out of the old, stained plastic ones, but she thinks Josie probably deserves better as a guest. Eventually, she spots a light blue glass from a dining set they had two houses ago. She pulls it down. "How's your weekend been? Well, since the fair, anyways."

Hope clears her throat, like it'll clear the weird tension in the air, too. "'S been nice. Wish the fair was here for longer, to be honest.

"There's always next year," she says optimistically. She passes off the glass of water, and as Josie takes it from her, Hope realizes that she didn't bother to ask if she wanted ice. She almost feels rude for a second, but Josie takes a grateful sip and sends her a little smile, so she guesses that she did alright. "Anyways, economics."

"Right, economics." Hope shakes herself. She should focus on the actual intention of Josie's visit, not whether or not she'll get huffy about a few ice cubes. "What chapter are you guys on?"

"We have the same teacher, I'm pretty sure—Mr. Manassa?" Hope nods. "My class just started the chapter on supply."

Hope mentally sighs in relief. Supply is something she understands, so she won't look like an idiot. She uses her right thumb to rub at the palm of her left hand, grimacing when she realizes her hands are clammy. "Yeah, same. We can—in the living room, if you want?"

"Fine by me," Josie replies, and Hope swallows past the weird, sudden dryness in his throat. It's like she's never seen an attractive human before. Christ. "I started reading the chapter, but it just sounds like gibberish. I hate the way the book's written."

"Really?" Hope's actually read a bit of the chapters, since she didn't think the writing was too excruciating, but to each their own. "I don't know, I kind of like it."

"Good, then. Hopefully you can help me make sense of it." She sits on the couch beside Hope—not really close, but not really far either, and Hope feels herself settling in more, the jitters wearing off. She knows Josie, is the thing, and it's not even the first time the brunette has sat on her couch while they do school work together. She puts her backpack on the floor and digs out her green economics book, the same one Hope has stuffed underneath her bed. "Have you done the chapter work?"

"What?"

"The chapter work," Josie repeats, and if Hope didn't know her, She probably wouldn't have noticed how amused she was at her lack of attention. "The work that's due tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, that," Hope mumbles. Truth be told, she hasn't been doing much at all besides binge-watching old Pokemon episodes on Netflix and playing games on her phone—well, that and a bit of Mark Twain research this morning. "I started it."

"I'm sure," she says, and her tone's some brand of teasing. She peers around, like she's looking for something in particular. "You can go get your backpack, you know."

"I know," Hope replies quickly, sounding a lot more annoyed than she really is. "I was getting there."

Josie laughs. Hope stands up before she makes the mistake of staring.

She returns with her laptop tucked under her arm, Mark Twain paper still up and sharing the screen with her game of Solitaire. Josie looks like she might have a laugh at her expense when she sees it, but instead she says, "Explain the difference between supply and quantity supplied to me, please."

And, honestly, Hope's never been in the business of rejecting polite people. She explains to her heart's content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted in a few minutes :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter but it's sweet.

They really do try to work through their economics assignment, but Hope will admit that it's been a while since she and Josie have talked like normal, save for the night at the fair. It's a little addicting to have short segments of banter, followed by brief references to their days as chemistry partners and mildly rebellious museum explorers, before they force themselves to get back on track. Hope likes the way Josie shakes her head every time she realizes that they're surfing a topic far, far from economics. Hope finds herself focusing on her work just to make sure she's helping the taller girl to the best of her ability.

"If I have to write the word 'elasticity' one more time," Josie grumbles, sighing in frustration at her paragraph about the determinants of supply elasticity. Hope spares a glance down at her own one-sentence answer and decides that Josie hasn't really changed at all.

"Let's take a break," Hope suggests, after she watches the brunette struggle for another minute, scanning the page like she's trying to add more to her paragraph.

"Great idea," Josie says abruptly, like she'd been waiting for her to say it. She slams her book shut, tosses her notebook aside, and looks at Hope expectantly.

She fish-mouths briefly, not really having planned what the break would entail, but she recovers quickly enough. "Did you… Did you want to watch something? And get something to eat, maybe?"

"Yes," Josie says, slowly, like Hope’s missing something. "What are we going to watch?"

"I—" She considers her options, but ultimately decides that it should be her guest's choice what they watch. "You can pick. I'll be right back."

She grabs her glass and makes sure to refill it while she's in the kitchen, then proceeds to spend an insubordinate amount of time scanning their pantry for the best snack. They have chips, which is the obvious choice, but Hope’s not even sure that Josie likes sour cream and onion chips, plus she's not really in the mood.

She narrows her eyes at the shelves. She knows she and Josie had to have talked about snack preferences sophomore year. Or—better yet—she just needs to remember what Josie asked for when they were writing their research paper two years ago.

Hope admits defeat a few seconds later, when her brain reminds her that her memory isn't skilled enough to remember what Josie ate the last time she was at her house. On a whim, she snatches up a box of Oreos and returns to the living room.

"I hope you don't mind," she says, and Hope glances up to see her typing away on her laptop. She's relocated to the floor, which is coincidentally where Hope prefers to sit when she's watching shows on her laptop. She sits beside her without a complaint.

"It's fine." Then, she drops the Oreos between them, sliding her newly filled glass of water on the coffee table.

"Thank you," Josie says idly, scrolling through Netflix.

"Did—?" Hope cocks her head to the side, giving Josie a bewildered look. "Did you hack into my Netflix account?"

"It's hardly considered 'hacking' when the password is auto-filled," Josie replies boredly. "But if it makes you think I'm cooler than I am, I absolutely hacked your account."

Hope gives her a stupid smile, then forces it down. With time, she's forgotten how easy it is to be around Josie. It's a great feeling to be in the presence of someone who has just the sense of humor that's basically a magnet to her taste in banter. "Should work for the FBI."

"Right," Josie says drily. "I'd be a hero in that industry, being able to log into computers of teenagers with no concept of security."

"Hey," Hope says, crossing her arms. "I'm totally conscious. I delete my search histories and stuff. Reset my passwords every so often."

"And what?" Josie teases. "Change them from 'wolfgirl1' to 'wolfgirl2'?"

"'Wolfgirl' is not my password," Hope says. Then, after a pause, she sheepishly adds, "Anymore."

Josie actually snorts. Hope doesn't tend to use that word lightly, unless someone actually, truly, full-heartedly snorts. The sound simultaneously startles her and sends her into a fit of laughter. "Your… It was really 'wolfgirl'?"

"It was fifth grade!" Hope tries to defend herself. Her cheeks are red, but it's from a lack of breath rather than embarrassment. Probably.

"Oh my God," Josie says, sounding dangerously close to choking from laughter. Hope’s grateful that she knows CPR. "You're so predictable, Hope."

"Am not."

"What's your password now?" Josie questions. "Wait, wait—is it like 'hope2012' or something?"

"Close," Hope hums, raising one shoulder. Her shoulder pops. "It's actually just my birth year, then my graduation year. Sometimes I add an 'H' if it requires a capital letter."

"Ah, half-right," Josie says, snapping her fingers like she shouldn't have missed it. "What are you up for watching?"

"Whatever's cool." She lingers over a movie that looks very serious, and Hope sees her life flash before her eyes until Josie scrolls past it. "Something, um, light is preferable."

"I'm guessing The Boy In The Striped Pajamas is out of the question, then," she mumbles, moving past that one as well. She seems to grow tired of the category she's browsing, since she scrolls back up until she can see what Hope’s recently watched.

Pokemon glares back at her. Hope isn't sure if she's embarrassed, or annoyed at her computer for betraying her in front of a pretty person. "I didn't know they had this on Netflix," Josie says simply, clicking on play.

Hope stares at her. "You like it?"

She shrugs. "I've only seen it a few times, but I used to play the games when I was younger. My cousin passed off his Gameboy to me when he got the Nintendo DS, so I was a little behind everyone else, but it was pretty fun."

"We're going to be great friends," Hope informs her. Anyone who'll waste time watching Pokemon with her is immediately a friend. She can't wait to tell Pen.

Josie rolls her eyes, but she's smiling anyways. "We already are. Now, hush."

She folds back the tab on the box of Oreos and plucks one out with an appreciative hum, staring intently at the screen. Hope, who silently wonders when her lucky streak started, takes one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time!
> 
> twitter: @RainsOfNeptune


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how short all these chapters will be....
> 
> Also, I don't know if you read the tags but this isn't an angsty fic at all. It's pure fluff and pining.

"She watched Pokemon with me," Hope says, for the fifth time. "It was a dream, Pen. A dream."

"So I've heard," Pen says drily. "Four times prior to this one."

"You're the only one who watches it with me."

"It's because I pity you," the raven-haired girl says, but Hope knows her friend likes the show as much as she does. "She probably feels the same."

For good measure, Hope messes up Pen's hair. It's worth it when she gasps like she's been shot. "My hair was so good today," she whines, a few seconds later. "You've ruined all of my hard work."

"Somehow, I think you'll move on," Hope says to her suddenly much more dramatic friend. "Oh, look, here comes Maya."

"Before I've even had the chance to look in a damned mirror," Pen grumbles moodily.

Hope has a feeling that if Josie were here, she'd be making a joke at Hope’s expense about sexy angels. The thought makes Hope miss her, a little, since the last time she was able to hang out with her was approximately three days ago. Before she can witness another conversation between Pen and Maya, where they turn into bumbling idiots that talk about everything except their very obvious something, she jogs ahead to reach the courtyard.

There are always students lazing around out here before class, especially since it's finally hit October and the weather's nothing short of perfect—a good amount of sun with a fair amount of breeze. She sees a group of people sitting in a circle right on the concrete, playing what looks like some form of charades, a girl leaning against a brick building flipping through a textbook, and tons of other kids standing around and chatting. Hope bypasses them all, making a beeline for the vending machines.

The soda machines at her school are almost always out of everything, so Hope holds her breath when she requests a Coke Zero. By some dumb luck, the machine has one in stock and drops it into the box.

She’s reaching down to get it when someone hip bumps her, very nearly sending her careening into a brick wall. She recognizes the shoes before she even looks up at the person. "Hi," she says, breathless after nearly getting herself concussed.

"Morning," Josie chirps brightly, and ugh, she forgot that she was a morning person. She pushes six coins through the slot just like Hope did and requests a Coke Zero. She hears the tell-tale sigh of a student who's been told that their choice of drink is out of order. "You'd think they'd restock these things beyond the Sprite Zero," she mutters under her breath, but admits defeat, pressing down on the button for a Sprite Zero instead.

Hope looks down at the Coke Zero in her hand. "They did," she says, slowly. "I just took the last one."

She glances at Hope’s drink, scoffing. "Of course you did, you horrible, horrible human." She retrieves her Sprite Zero, knowing better than to open it straight away, and turns towards her. "How'd you do on the supply test in econ?"

"Made an 87," Hope shares. "You can have the Coke, if you want it."

Josie waves her off, shaking her head. "It's fine. Thank you."

"Are you sure?" She draws out the last word, raising her eyebrows. It might be a lie, but she still says, "I don't mind Sprite, anyways."

"The Sprite Zero is awful, and we both know it," Josie says, clearly not buying in. She smiles at her nonetheless. "Really, thanks, but I'll live without a Coke."

"I—" Hope not sure why she's struggling with this, but she wants Josie to have it. She doesn't want anything to get in the way of her having a perfect day; she doesn't want her spirits dampened in the slightest, even if it's just a soda. It's not like it's going to make or break her mood, Hope tries to tell herself, but it doesn't change her mind. "Really. You should take it."

"Why do you want me to take this soda so bad?" Josie questions, confused, but still smiling at her. "Did you shake it, or something?"

"No," Hope says, with every bit of sincerity she can muster. "I swear. It's in perfect condition; I haven't even opened it. Here," she offers it out with one hand, using the other to swipe her Sprite Zero. "It's yours."

She takes it, but not without a hesitant look. "I can't tell if you're just being nice, or if you have some evil plan going on here."

"I can open it for you, if you don't trust me." Josie positions her hands to open it herself, giving Hope a warning look. "I swear, it's safe."

"You're weird," she informs the aburnette, but unscrews the cap anyway. Fizz doesn't spill out over the top, and Josie takes a still-cautious sip. "Alright, I guess you aren't evil."

Hope smiles widely, and it takes her a second to get it down from 100-watt to something more calm. "Yeah, I'm not."

Before she can think of something even more lame to say, the bell rings. Josie tips the Coke at her in one last thanks before she brushes past Hope, squeezing her arm as she goes. Hope, like she's in a movie and she's just been kissed by her crush of 10 years, reaches up and cradles her arm where Josie touched her.

"Your arm hurting you?" MG says, passing by Hope on his way to gym. Hope’s always felt bad for MG, having to work out his first class of the day. "I can get my mom, if you need her."

"I'm fine," Hope says quickly, dropping her hand. She doesn't need a nurse, not unless the particular nurse can cure her of her crush on Josie that's apparently back at full force. "Tell her I say hi, though."

MG nods, bidding Hope goodbye, and carries on towards the gym. She looks in the direction Josie headed off in, like she'll be coming back, for whatever reason.

She isn't, and Hope’s an idiot. She groans under her breath and goes to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)
> 
>   
> Please go be my friend on twitter, I know no one :(
> 
> twitter: @RainsOfNeptune


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! :D
> 
> This is a longer one...I think.

"I don't like asparagus," Josie mentions over lunch, a few weeks later. Because this is a thing they do now, apparently. Pen and Maya had been the ones who had unified their two respective groups, and now the party of ten claims the table just beside the cafeteria doors.

"I like it okay," Jed puts in, but he shrugs after. "It doesn't really taste like anything."

"It tastes awful," is Kaleb's response. He scrunches up his nose. "All vegetables taste awful."

"It's beyond me how you ever grew past two feet," Pen says, flatly. "I love vegetables, and you're, like, a foot taller than me."

Hope’s not even sure why they're having this conversation, but she knows that Josie’s hair is messy today like she woke up late and didn't even bother with it. Her shirt's purple, and it looks nice on her—though, to be fair, there isn't all that much Hope would say Josie looks bad in. She folds her hands on the table in front of her, nodding as she listens to Lizzie say something, and Hope watches as Josie fidgets with her own fingers, twisting one of her rings idly.

It isn't until one of those hands waves in her direction that she realizes she was staring. Josie could probably make the assumption that she was looking at her chest, but instead she just looks concerned. "Are you alright? You've been out of it since lunch started."

Hope’s not sure what's wrong with her. Ever since she woke up, every word that's been said to her echoes around in her head until it's really just chaos. She’s been having issues focusing in all of her classes thus far, much to the disappointment of her teachers. You were doing so well, Mr. Keaves from English told her. It made her feel guilty, which was probably his intention. "I'm alright," she says, after a few seconds. "Probably need more sleep."

"You can go nap in my mom's office," MG pipes up, leaning away from his conversation with Raf. "She'd be cool with it."

"Kaleb and I have a few Vitamin Waters and energy drinks in our locker if you need one," Lizzie adds, and Kaleb nods his assent immediately.

Hope shrugs, a little uncomfortable with all of the attention from her friends. Most of them have turned to give her worried looks. Well, except for Alyssa and Jed. They mostly look confused as to why everyone else is so worried. "I'm fine; it's not that bad. Thanks, though."

"Are you sure? I can ask Haley if it's cool for us to leave early," Pen says, since she and Hope carpooled today.

"Guys," Hope says, rubbing her forehead and laughing. It turns into a wince when the sound worsens her headache. She'll admit that it feels nice to be cared about, but it's nothing more than a little smidgen of sleep deprivation. She’ll live. "I'm fine. Your concern is really nice, though."

"Of course we're concerned," Lizzie coos, reaching out to pinch Hope’s cheek. Hope bats her hand away. "You're our little ol' Hope."

Hope crosses her arms, glaring at her. "I am not a child."

"Petulance, key sign of an infant," Josie stage-whispers to MG and Maya, conspiratorial. They nod along with solemn expressions.

"Josie," Hope complains with exasperation.

"Easily annoyed," MG adds. "Seems infant-y to me."

"You guys are the worst. Why are we having this conversation?" Hope asks the two groups at large. Now that she thinks about it, maybe they're kind of one group now.

"Because we're very concerned for your health and safety," Josie tells her, like she's her mother. She rolls her eyes, and Josie turns serious again. "Hey, seriously, are you okay?"

Everyone else has started up conversations—Pen and Maya chatting about her younger siblings, Kaleb and Jed discussing the best Halloween costumes, and, well, Hope's not really sure what the others and MG are talking about, but judging by the unimpressed looks on their faces, it's nothing good. Hope’s eyes go back to Josie, who's staring her down like whatever's off with her will jump out at her. "Really. I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

She holds her gaze for a few seconds, trying to determine how honest Hope’s being, more likely than not, and slowly nods. "Alright. Promise me you'll let someone know if you start feeling worse?"

Hope offers her assent immediately and Josie turns away when Lizzie taps her on the shoulder. Hope watches a curl fall out of her half-hearted updo, and really, truly, questions her own sanity. Since when is hair endearing, honestly?

Later, when Hope gets home, her mom's all over her—checking her temperature, making her drink some concoction that'll apparently strengthen her immune system, interrogating her about her symptoms. As it would happen, Hope has a fever, and as it would also happen, Hayley refuses to let Hope leave her room until her sickness passes.

She messes around on her phone for a while, downloading a few games and uninstalling them when they become tedious. After an hour or so of that, though, Hope’s bored out of her mind. She texts Pen.

Hope: im bored

Hope: you told mom i was sick and now im not allowed to leave my room

She tacks on what looks like a fairly annoyed emoji, and then she goes back to her so-far fruitless search of a decent game to play.

Not even two minutes later, Hope gets a text, but it's not a reply from Pen. It's Josie, saying, I heard you can't leave your room. How are you feeling?

what, is how Hope, very eloquently, replies. why are you with pen

We're all hanging out at the Mystic Grill, Josie tells her. It's not the same without the whole gang.

Which, Hope thinks, has to be code for ‘it's not the same without you’. She smiles, but she's usually smiling when she's talking to Josie, so that's not saying much. im jealous, she answers. Then she sends a second text that says, of course it's not the same im the life of the party, which is pretty far from the truth. Hope’s really more the floater of the party, who partially enjoys herself and partially really wants to go home.

How are you feeling? Josie asks for the second time, reminding Hope that she never answered her in the first place.

Hope: im FINE barely even a fever

Josie S.: If you say so… Are you going to be at school tomorrow? I can get your work for you, if you need me to.

That's sweet, Hope thinks. Unnecessary, but sweet. She was planning on getting Pen to tell her teachers where she's at and she doesn't want to make Josie spend the extra time walking around to all of her classes, picking up work she probably won't do until she gets back to school anyways.

Hope: thanks but you dont have to. Usually pen does all of that

Josie S.: Pen said it's fine if I take care of it. I can bring it by tomorrow after school, if that's okay?

"Josie," Hope groans aloud. The girl is making her life incredibly difficult right now, just by being nice to her—something she appreciates all in all, but she doesn't have to be this way solely because she's feeling a little under the weather. She scrolls up and down in their conversation, delaying her answer for as long as possible.

The thing is, Hope’s used to Josie’s witty remarks—used to her teasing Hope like it's about to go out of style, used to Josie laughing at her rather than with her, in a way that she really finds cute when she should be offended—but she's definitely not used to Josie being this nice. It's throwing her off. She kind of wants the brunette to say something sarcastic and teasing towards her, just to keep the world in balance.

Josie S.: I'm going to come over whether you tell me to or not, so your answer really doesn't matter. What's your schedule?

And there it is, Hope thinks, lips quirking up as she reads the message. That's better.

Josie texts her for a while after that, even at Hope’s insistence that she should talk to the people she's with instead of blowing them off to talk to her sickly self. She tells Hope to shut up twice, then lets her know that she would rather talk to her, and Hope sinks a little further into her bed with each message that rolls through from the girl. If she weren't actually sick, she would probably claim it's Josie that's getting her temperature up.

She falls asleep after a while, in some space where there's a lull between her last message and Josie’s reply, and when she wakes up, her sheets are more or less soaked in sweat.

Hope takes a second to groan into her pillow, kicking at her blankets until they fall off her bed. She groans again.

She doesn't think to check the time until she’s in the kitchen, banging around in the cabinets without much coordination, searching for some medicine to bring her fever down so she can sleep without feeling like she's going to melt. It's past 4 AM. The good news is that her thoughtless slamming of cabinets woke her mom up, but the bad news is that they're all out of medicine. Hope could cry.

Hayley gives her an aspirin, even if they hardly ever do anything for her, and promises to head to the store first thing in the morning. She checks Hope’s temperature again before they both stumble off to their rooms.

She knows Pen won't be awake, but that doesn't stop her from sending a string of complaints about how hot she is. Hope somehow makes sure to blame Pen for getting her sick, accusing her of being "carrier," because they both know Pen has an impressively resilient immune system. She can't even remember the last time her best friend was sick.

As usual when Hope falls ill, she finds it impossible to get comfortable and sleep. She’s either too hot or too cold. The only truly comfy position she finds is when she tucks her arms beneath her chest, face buried in her pillow, but she knows she'll hate herself when she suffocates in the middle of the night, or wakes up with aching arms from resting her weight on them for so long. Hope frowns at her ceiling. God, she's bored.

Eventually, she results to the most boring thing she can think of: trying to create a mental timeline from what they're learning in her history class. Predictably, it gets her to sleep, but only for about an hour before she wakes up with the shivers.

Once she starts awake at 7 AM, she decides that there's no going back. Her mom leaves to get her medicine as soon as she wakes up, as promised, but Hope knows the flu's set in by now and she has very little chance of a quick and painless recovery.

She showers. Lies around for a few hours, takes a long nap, eats a hearty meal of toast and a handful of saltines. Her mom passes her water bottle after water bottle, and Hope lets herself be coddled. After all, some years from now, she'll be living alone, forced to combat her cold by herself.

When Josie texts her to say she'll be over soon, Hope only feels a little guilty for forgetting about her existence in her fever haze. She drags herself into the shower and spends a lot of time adjusting the temperature of the water.

She’s just barely managed to tug her shirt over her head, eyes stinging either because she got shampoo in them or because she's extremely overheated, but she makes it to the door in one piece.

Josie, as usual, shows some seriously sparkling sympathy. "You look awful," she greets. "You have a review packet in math."

Which, Hope thinks, is quite a few bad things to process in her current state. "Ugh," she says, stepping away from the door and leaving Josie with the duty of closing it. She does.

"On the bright side, I brought you various soups." She lifts a grocery bag. Hope blinks at it before squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe she'll feel less in love if she doesn't look at Josie. "Oh, hi Ms. Marshall! I missed you last time."

Hope lifts one eyelid from where she lays sprawled on the couch. Josie and her mom chat as they walk to the kitchen, but Hope doesn't have the strength of mind to listen. Soup, she thinks pathetically. Her mind even gives a half-pleased, half-exasperated little sigh.

"Soup," Hope mutters to herself. Then she promptly falls asleep. Or passes out. Something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :D
> 
> Twitter: @_talkingsweet and @RainsofNeptune


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's really late but here's to hosie rain kiss :D
> 
> It's not long at all but I'll double update tomorrow

When she opens her eyes, she can see her mom leaning over her, and she can feel her cool hand resting on her forehead. "You alright, dear? Your soup is ready. Josie brought it for you."

Hope wonders why moms talk to their kids like they've become babies again when they get sick. "I know. She's great."

Haley and another person laugh, and right, Josie’s here. Hope should probably wake up a little more and let her brain-to-mouth filter do its job.

She’s still hot and cold at the same time, and she kind of wishes she would have stayed asleep. Even if Josie’s sitting in front of her, explaining what they did in economics, and handing her a stack of papers. She looks so sincere about the whole exchange that Hope can't do anything more than eat some of her soup. "I wrote down your math homework, too, but your teacher said you can work it out with her when you get back, since you missed the quiz today as well." Hope nods to show that she's listening, but she's really less worried about her math homework and more worried about the way her muscles seem more and more reluctant to bring her spoon to her mouth. Eventually, she gives up, staring at her half-finished and mostly cooled dinner.

"Feeling any better?" Josie’s brow dips worriedly. Hope wants to smooth it with her thumb. She doubts she has the coordination, strength, or concentration to do that right now, so she refrains.

"Yeah," she lies, offering up a brief smile. "Thanks for my work."

"You're welcome," Josie says, then she checks her phone. "My dad's calling. I really should be getting home."

"Of course." Hope pats her hair down, but it's probably a lost cause. "Yeah, I'll—later. Thanks again. For…"

"You're welcome," she repeats, even if Hope never said what for. "See you Monday?"

"Maybe." Hope clears her throat and fidgets with her spoon. "Really, thank you."

"Really, you're welcome," she responds with a certain brand of smile that Hope only gets to see every once in a while. She smiles back on reflex. "I'll see you."

Josie gives her another indulgent grin before she goes and Hope’s pretty sure it remedies a fair bit of her illness. Josie must be a god, or something. Goddess. Goddess of healing. Hope’s pretty sure there's already a god of healing, probably one who's stamping their foot indignantly at Hope’s neglect to recognize them, but she'll take the wrath if it means Josie looks at her like that again.

Hope’s never been all that great at being on her own. Quiet time leads to thinking time, and thinking time leads to over-thinking, and over-thinking tends to lead to her underestimating her self-worth. She likes being around people, likes to help, if she can, even if it's by making them laugh, or cheering them up, or being someone to talk to. She feeds off of good energy and tends to get bored and sulky when she's alone.

Thankfully, since her mother is still the best person on earth, despite Josie’s abrupt and unforeseen entry into the competition, she offers to watch something on TV with her. And even if she sits on the other end of their couch, volunteering to get Hope medicine every time she so much as clears her throat, it's a lot better than trying to find a game worth her time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloo :)

By the time Monday rolls around, Hope’s made a full recovery. Well, mostly.

Saturday brought her a raw throat and a nasty cough, but since her mother was waiting on hand and foot, she took enough medicine to knock it out before it could really develop. Her throat still hurts a little, but it's nothing a lozenge won't fix, and her head feels a little fuzzy from the few days spent either sleeping too little or too much, but she's alive and well. She decides to go to school and ends up running even later than usual.

By the time she arrives, she's ran two red lights—one right in front of a cop who either wasn't paying attention or simply didn't care—and probably pissed off the entire population of her town. She nearly knocks a freshman to the ground in her rush to get to class, her teacher's words ringing in her ears.

One more tardy, Ms. Mikaelson, and it'll be out of my hands and into the dean's. Hope personally doesn't care about tardies, since her first period never really gets rolling until it's ten minutes in, but she doesn't want her parking pass pulled. Or her mother's sad, understanding look when she tells her about something else she's screwed up.

She steps over the threshold right as the bell rings, and Hope feels like she might faint with relief. Or maybe that's all the running. Christ, she really needs to get in shape in time for soccer season.

"Mikaelson, how nice of you to join us," Mr. Keaves drawls, obviously not amused.

She ignores his tone and slips into her seat in the front row. A seat she abhors with every fiber of her being, but still the seat she was assigned. "Sorry."

The thing about Mr. Keaves is that he'll let you get away with most anything, so long as you apologize. "It's fine, Hope. Are you feeling any better? Josie told me you weren't well."

Hope feels her face heat up at the extra attention from Mr. Keaves and her classmates. "Yeah, I wasn't. Better now."

"I'm glad to hear that," he replies, rifling through a folder before dropping a stack of papers on her desk. "Here's your essay and your last test. Let me know if you have any questions." He wanders past Hope, giving papers to a few other students who were absent. "And today, we'll be getting some background on another important and influential writer: William Shakespeare."

There isn't much of a response from the class, but Hope releases a groan within her mind. If they're going to study Shakespeare, she might as well start calling English her foreign language class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one's super duper short, that's why I did a double update ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer one, you're welcome.

"Hey, it's you!" is how Pen greets Hope. As if she hasn't seen her best friend in months, rather than just a few days.

"You missed first period. And, yeah, it's me," Hope agrees, a little less enthusiastic than her friend. Pen just beams at her. "Did I... Did I miss something?"

"Nope," she tells her, popping the 'p.'

"Right," Hope says slowly.

"I think I have a date, though," the dark haired girl tacks on, like it's nothing. "Probably. An arranged meeting, anyways."

"With...?"

"Who do you think, Hope? Use that talented brain of yours."

There's definitely some underlying sarcasm there that she should be more offended about, but all she can do is grin at her friend. "Pen."

"It's not a big deal," Pen mutters, but her face is definitely redder than it was a few seconds ago. "Just. You know."

Hope rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I know."

Pen lets out a besotted sigh. Hope tries really hard to act like it disgusts her, but the truth of the matter is, Pen's happiness is pretty far up on the aburnette's list of important things. The girl’s been through a lot and never fails to be there when a friend finds themselves in a rough situation, so Hope would say that she deserves to have good things. Probably more than most.

"We're going downtown," Pen says after a while, just before they enter the cafeteria. "She said she wants to hear me play. And then, like, dinner. I hope."

"That's great, Pen," Hope says, squeezing her best friend's shoulder. "I'm happy for you."

"I know you are, you great big sap," Pen says flippantly, nudging Hope forward into the crowded room. Hope can't say her head is too thrilled with all of the noise, but she does have to push down a smile when all of her friends cheer her name from where they're sitting near the double doors, like she's returned from war or something.

"Hi," she greets, resisting the urge to smooth her hopelessly wrinkled shirt.

"We missed you," MG says, pouting at her with wide eyes. "You were gone for so long."

"She missed one day of school," Josie points out, but she gives Hope a look that seems to say she's glad she's back, too.

"Don't act like you didn't miss her, Saltzman," Pen says, pointing her fork at Josie. Hope, confused at where Pen got food, glances down to see Maya’s tray placed in between the two of them. How disgusting. "If I've learned anything these past few days, it's how often Hope comes up in conversation when she's not around."

Hope casts a mildly frightened glance at Pen. "Please tell me you didn't tell everyone embarrassing stories."

"Only a few," she promises, but the smirk on her face tells another story. "Like the Christmas sweater in fifth grade. And the haircut in seventh. And the tryouts for the school play in third grade—remember? For The Princess and The Pea?"

"You're the worst friend I've ever known," Hope says without much bite.

"The Christmas sweater was cute," Maya comforts, but she looks dangerously close to laughing.

"The haircut wasn't awful," MG says, and the worst part might be that he sounds sincere.

"Think of it this way: they've now seen you at your worst, and they still tolerate you now," Pen says, clapping Hope on the back. "That's a win if you ask me."

Hope sighs, but it's not really out of annoyance. It's more of a reluctant acceptance that her friends are both the best and worst people she knows.

"Oh, Hope, I meant to ask," Josie says suddenly, getting every ounce of Hope’s attention, even with Kaleb offering her candy from the left. "Do you think you could help me out with economics again? The price chapter is tripping me up."

Hope wishes she knew how to smile at Josie normally, and wishes that she didn't light up like a Christmas tree every time she turned her brown eyes on her. "Yeah, sure. When?"

"I was thinking maybe..." Josie trails off, looking a touch uncomfortable and maybe even annoyed. Hope glances at her other friends, and raises her eyebrows when she realizes they're all watching Hope and Josie’s exchange with interest. It seems to take them all a second to realize they shouldn't be.

"So, Jed, you still up for Halloween Horror Nights?" Kaleb asks, hesitantly.

Everyone is jarred out of their staring by those words; stemming off into their own conversations with whoever's around them. Hope looks back to Josie with a tight smile. "You were thinking...?"

"Right," the brunette says, shaking her head. "Tomorrow? Wednesday?"

"Tomorrow's fine," she answers, trying to sound casual rather than over-eager. She just likes Josie’s company, is all. "Anytime, really. I'm not a busy person."

Pen apparently has a muscle spasm, because she kicks Hope’s shin. Hard. Hope grits her teeth through the pain and kicks her back.

Josie gives her a weird look, like she notices something's off. She doesn't ask. "Yeah, tomorrow's good for me, too. Thanks."

Hope smiles at her until she smiles back. "Okay. You're welcome."

"Yeah," Josie says, which makes little to no sense at all. She twirls one of her curls and leans over a textbook for some AP class, by the looks of it. She's really, really, devastatingly cute while she reads, Hope comes to learn. Focus looks good on Josie.

"Dude," Pen says slowly. "I know Haley taught you that staring's rude."

"I'm not"—Hope tears her eyes away from Josie—"staring. I know you learned the hard way that making assumptions isn't nice." She’s not really sure if that's true, but Pen narrows her eyes anyways.

Hope glances back at Josie. She's looking back, and in a lapse of judgement, Hope waves at her. Stupid, she thinks. She probably assumes they were talking about her now. To be fair, they kind of were. Hope’s sure she looks guilty.

"Stupid," Pen says under her breath. Hope scowls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you'll kind of like the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorryy, I've been busy with school :(  
> but I do have this week off so I'll update another chapter soon :D

"The answer is 4, not 6," Josie says, tapping Hope’s paper with her pencil. Hope stares at her hand for a second, but eventually forces her eyes over to the problem. Josie leans closer until she's reading the paper over the shorter girl’s shoulder, readjusting the book so that she can see what the question was asking. Hope doesn't move a muscle. "Like, look… The price floor is here. The equilibrium is here. That's a surplus of 4 units, not 6."

Two weeks ago, Josie came over with the premise of getting guidance on her economics homework. They ended up wasting too much time talking, eventually boycotting the idea of finishing their homework early, and ended up watching The Hunger Games. She came over again on Thursday, and then they really did finish their homework—Josie a good half hour before Hope. The brunette made a 97 on the quiz they had on Friday, quite a few points ahead of her typical score of an 85. Hope’s calling bullshit.

"I'm calling bullshit," she announces, dropping her pencil on top of her notebook. It rolls until it's about to fall off the table, and Josie reaches out to catch it before she can.

Josie scowls at her, holding the pencil just out of her reach like it's a hostage situation. "Hope, the answer is 4. It's not 6."

"No, not on—" She shakes her head, reaching out for her pencil, but Josie only shifts back further. She relents. "No, you're right. I know that."

"Good." Josie sits back in her seat, satisfied, and deposits the pencil into her hand. "What's bullshit, then?"

"You don't need help with economics," she declares, gesturing to her nearly finished homework. She’ll bet that every single one of them is correct, too. "Especially not my help. You understand this better than I do."

"That's not true," Josie says, affronted. Hope can't tell if she's offended on Hope’s behalf, or her own. Josie clears her throat, like she's about to say something important, but she doesn't look her in the eye. "I really did need help with the supply chapter."

"But you're fine with price. Great with price, even."

"Thanks. Now what did you get for number 7?"

"Josie—"

"Hope," she says, and she sounds just as exasperated as she looks. Hope looks at her to show that she's all ears. The tall girl keeps her gaze for maybe a millisecond before she glances away, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Just… Economics. We have work to do."

"You could do it alone, though," she starts, trying to prove her point, refusing to take her eyes off Josie. Her skin is distractingly tan, with just barely visible freckles here and there. "You don't need my help."

Josie sighs, turning to look at her blankly. Some emotion skitters across her face too quickly for Hope to decide what it is, then she scowls, crossing her arms. "If you really wanted to get rid of me that bad, you could have just said it."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the air falls flat. Hope feels like time stops for a few moments, while Josie glares at her with hurt and anger swimming in her eyes. She’s so stunned by the change in atmosphere that she has trouble forming a decent response, and Josie stares at her, like she's waiting for something, but Hope isn't sure what she wants from her. Oh no, she thinks with a sense of dread. "I don't—Josie, that's not what I…"

She waits for Hope to finish her sentence, but once it becomes apparent that she has no intention to, she just closes her book. "Really, don't worry about it," Josie says, far too lightly to be genuine. "I understand."

"I don't want you to leave," Hope blurts out, and it sounds a lot more dramatic than she meant for it to. Go big or go home, some demented part of her thinks. "I just wanted to make a point."

"Point made," Josie says without inflection, and Hope throws an arm across Josie’s book to prevent her from picking it up. She pushes at the arm, though not with enough force to actually move it. Hope tries to catch her eye, so that she can apologize right, but Josie just stares at the place where her knuckles are pressing against Hope’s arm.

"You don't get it," Hope says, and it sounds more gentle than she means for it to. "I'm not saying that, like, I don't want to spend time with you." She still won't look at her, but she might nudge Hope a little with her hand, so she takes what she can get. "I just… Maybe we could just do what we did last week? Where we talked? And we don't have to say we're doing homework every time we hang out. We can just say that we're hanging out. I mean, if we're doing homework, then we can say that. There's nothing wrong with doing homework together. And I like having a study partner; that's cool. But we don't have to be study partners all the time, right? Like we can be friends? Who do friend things?"

"Friend things," Josie mutters, sending her a small smile. Hope’s internal organs perform an intense gymnastics routine. "Like what?"

"Like—" Hope pauses. "Like, talk. And watch TV. And, like, me and Pen go to the park sometimes, but that's mostly because there's never kids there and she wants to smoke and look at the lake and be all philosophical and stuff. But I don't think you're a smoker."

Josie’s lips twitch, like she's dangerously close to laughing at the girl in front of her. She slides her knuckles over Hope’s wrist briefly before removing her hand altogether. Hope finds that it's a little harder than usual to pull air into her lungs. "I'm not."

"Well," Hope says, blinking at her. She can feel her pulse pounding in her wrist. "Good."

"Good," Josie repeats, with a very serious nod. She's definitely picking on her now.

"So…" Hope trails off, removing her arm from the book. "We could, uh, watch something?"

She smiles fully, now, and Hope is but a few Josie smiles away from passing out. "I can't," she says. "Dinner with Dad."

Hope nods too many times, almost dizzying herself in the process. "Of course, it's—yeah, don't—we'll... Next time."

"Was that even English?" Josie teases, raising an eyebrow. Hope can feel a flush working it's way up her neck, so she tries to be casual when she pulls the collar of her hoodie up a little.

"It was," Hope says, needlessly. Josie’s packing up her bag, albeit slowly, like she's still waiting for Hope to say or do something that she just can't seem to pin down. Hope tucks her bottom lip into her mouth and averts her gaze.

"And, for the record, even if I don't need help, I still want you as a study partner. I mean, we worked well together in chem. Remember?"

"Nope," Hope says, sending her a look. "Completely forgot those 9 weeks of sophomore year."

"You aren't even a quarter as funny as you think you are," she says blandly. Her bag's packed, but she doesn't start for the door. Hope feels something like nerves inching up her spine.

She draws in a deep breath. Her mother raised her right; she's been taught to walk guests out when they're exiting their home. Hope’s just worried that she'll do something stupid with Josie.

"Still makes me pretty funny," she says, after a bit of a delay. "I'll—Let me walk you out."

Josie nods immediately, and she leads her to the door. She steps out, and some part of Hope has an urge to pull her back in, like she hasn't quite gotten her fill of Josie’s company. She manages to restrain herself. "I don't mean to skip out on you."

Hope gives a small, nervous laugh. She tucks her hair behind her ear and tugs the sleeve of her sweater to cover her palms. "Dinner's a good excuse."

Josie nods, then looks down at her feet. "I... I didn't mean to freak out on you earlier. You struck a nerve, but it was one you didn't know was there, so it's not your fault."

Hope waits for her to continue, tipping her head forward and staring down at her socked feet. One blue sock's just slightly more faded than the other.

"It's kind of a sore spot, the whole 'people not wanting me around' thing. Um, the short version is that Mom and Dad were kind of at each other's throats during the divorce. Not really much time for the kids. And the typical 'you're just like your mother’ comments were certainly there. And a few bad experiences with friends, too, but... Anyways. It's not really important, I just figured I owed you an explanation."

"You didn't," Hope reassures her, and her heart hurts a little for Josie. "But I know how much you like explaining things."

She smiles, and it's small, but it's enough. "Thanks."

Hope shrugs. "'S whatever. And, like, if you ever feel like your parents don't want you around... I mean, you don't have to, of course, but just know that you can just hang out with me. Or text. Or something." Because I'm getting dangerously close to that stage where I always want you around, Hope adds silently, but ultimately decides not to voice.

"Thanks, Hope. It means a lot."

Josie looks, for a moment, like she might hug her. Hope likes hugs well enough, and she wouldn't be averse if the taller girl reached out for one, but she's not feeling confident enough to meet her halfway on this one. "I'll see you?"

"You will," Josie confirms. She turns and heads for her car, parked out in the road like she wasn't sure if she was permitted to use the driveway. Hope makes a mental note to tell her it's fine next time she sees her.

Just before she settles into the driver's seat, she waves—nothing more than a flutter of her fingertips, but Hope thinks she might be blushing anyways. She waves back.

Hope closes the door and sands her hands together. First things first, Hope thinks, ask Mom what's for dinner. Then get the Josie Situation under control. Because it certainly is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Twitter: @_talkingsweet and @RainsOfNeptune


	11. Chapter 11

Hope doesn't get the Josie situation under control. That much is made apparent as her palms get clammy every time she so much as says a word to brunette teen. Not to mention the seemingly permanent heat that always creeps it's way up her neck until it colors her cheeks. And she can't exactly ignore the way her stomach starts this new thing where it turns over every time Josie directs a smile at her.

Hope’s seen more self-control in over-excited puppies meeting a new person. She wonders if she's as obvious as she feels. She definitely, one hundred per cent, without a doubt, should have commanded the situation when she had any say at all.

The brunette unintentionally pulls Hope in like a magnet with nearly everything she does. She interrupts people to correct their grammar, which is pretentious and annoying, and definitely not something Hope should be attracted to. At all. Except, every time she gets Raf on his double negatives, Hope gets a strange and strong urge to kiss her. It's the most absurd reaction to Josie’s know-it-all tendencies.

"It's ridiculous," Hope tells Pen, who's being the very best best friend out there, listening to her complain. "I want it gone."

"I don't think it works like that," she says idly. The short-haired glances at her phone, surely wanting to reach for it, but isn't sure how to do so without seeming rude.

Hope tries for an annoyed sigh, but she falls somewhere around fondly exasperated. "Text her back. Then give me some top-notch Pen Park advice."

Her best friend has the grace to look sheepish as she reaches for her phone, tapping away as she starts talking. "There's not really anything to do, Hope. I mean, when have you ever been able to get rid of a crush? Most people can't. You especially."

Hope frowns. "Why me especially?"

"Because you crush on people very, very violently," Pen replies boredly, but she sends Hope a look that seems to say it's not a bad thing, happens to the best of us. "Every time you've ever liked someone, it's, like, embarrassingly obvious. And no doubt impossible to reverse. I'd wait it out."

"I don't want to wait it out," Hope complains, picking the hem of her Henley shirt where it's starting to thread. She’s been meaning to go shopping. Even if she and her mother live comfortably now, she still feels guilt-ridden every time she asks for money. "I want it to leave me alone. I want her to be my friend."

"I don't look at my friends like that," Pen says under her breath. Hope throws half an Oreo at her, but it lands harmlessly on the girl's chest. She glances down at it, then shrugs before popping it in her mouth. "Oooh! The mint ones. I love these."

"Pen, focus." Hope snaps her fingers above Pen's eyes. Unconcerned, she just shifts until she's comfortably stretched across Hope’s couch, like her best friend isn't having a mild crisis. "Just—how obvious is it?"

"If I didn't know you?" Pen questions. Hope nods. "Oh, I'd assume that you're newlyweds or something."

That doesn't make Hope feel better in the slightest. She groans from where she's leaning against the couch, but her friend just knees her in the back of the head without sympathy. Some friendship this is, Hope thinks sullenly, but the truth is, Pen is kind of the best friend she could ask for. Hope’s very blessed.

"Hey, listen," Pen says, tone softer than usual. Hope knows what's coming. "You can't help that you like her. And you shouldn't force yourself not to, if you do. You can be her friend and like her, you know."

"You always get the girls you like," Hope says, admittedly jealous of her. Her friend hasn't had the best life; doesn't have it half as good as Hope does, and yet sometimes she finds herself wishing she were a bit more like Pen—more outgoing, more balanced, more poised. "How do you do that?"

"Dumb luck. And the whole singing thing helps me out a little."

Hope hums and nods. "Well they sure don't like you for your ugly mug."

"Hey," the singer says, a little offended but mostly warning her. "Don't talk bad about my face. It's right here."

Hope can't help the laugh that escapes her. "Right, I'm sorry for hurting your face's feelings."

"She's not bothered," Pen promises. "She's pretty self-assured, I think."

And that's another thing Hope envies about her best friend; she has this easy-going vibe that she exudes, letting everyone know that she'll hear their opinion on her, but it won't bring her to her knees. She’s never let someone's words get the best of her; takes everything in stride, remaining content with who she is, and never changes unless she's doing it for herself. Hope’s always wanted to be like that. It's probably why she gravitated to Pen when they were in the first grade, when the girl always stepped up to the plate in music class while Hope cowered in the corner.

Pen perks up after a second, staring hard at the side of Hope’s face. Hope keeps her eyes on the ceiling, not really feeling up to a soul-deep conversation with the girl spread across her couch.

Pen seems to understand. She nudges Hope’s head with her knee again and again until Hope turns to her. "Hey, want to help me dye my hair?"

"You carry hair dye with you?"

"No, but my car does," she answers. The auburn-haired girl gives her friend an incredulous look. "What? You never know when you might need it."

"Remind me why we're friends again?"

Pen seems to ponder this briefly, then she shrugs. "Eh, whatever. Probably best that we don't question, yeah?"

She hops up off the couch a second later, very nearly stepping on Hope’s hand, and goes out to her car to get the hair dye she carries around with her just in case. It's incredibly Pen, if nothing else.

And, Hope guesses, if she can't get rid of the Josie Situation, she might as well just distract herself from it. She helps Pen dye her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What two colors should Penelope dye her??
> 
> twitter: @_talkinsweet
> 
> @rainsofneptune


	12. Chapter 12

"Pink and blue?" is how the majority of their friends greet Pen. The rest of them say 'blue and pink?'

"Hope was very helpful," she says politely, gesturing to her. "Spent hours working on it."

Hope lifts up her stained hands to prove it. "I sure did."

"She needed the distraction."

Hope turns her head so fast, she's pretty sure she hears a few joints pop. "I did not," Hope says, very slowly. Pen looks at her impassively.

"Right, and while we'd all love to sit here and watch you two argue, I need a favor from Pen," Lizzie says, before Hope can muster up her best glare. "Can I interview you for the school paper? We're doing an article on talented students."

Pen nods immediately, eyebrows raising in interest at any chance to talk about her passion. She and Lizzie step off to the side to compare schedules, searching for an open time slot that matches up for a meeting. Hope tries to drill a hole through her best friend’s stupid, thick skull with only her eyes.

"Hey," Josie says, sidling up to Hope and knocking her shoulder against hers. "Walk me to class."

Another thing that should probably annoy Hope is Josie bossing her around here and there. It doesn't. If anything, she's always more than happy to go along with whatever the girl says. Which is, like, pathetic as hell, but Hope doesn't see herself doing anything to change that in the near future. "Of course," she replies immediately, and inwardly cringes at how eager she sounds. "I mean, sure. If you want." She might outwardly cringe, this time. God, she's embarrassing.

Josie, for her part, looks more amused than anything else. She leads the way. "Is everything alright?" she asks, after they're a good distance away from the rest of their group.

"Yeah, why?"

"Just seemed tense, with Pen," she says casually. "Wanted to make sure you guys hadn't had a fall out or anything."

"You're speaking in sentence fragments," Hope mentions, a smile working it's way across her face.

"Probably because I'm hanging around your grammatically incorrect self too much," Josie replies, sounding a lot more annoyed than she looks. Hope bites her bottom lip to reel the smile in before it goes from amused to smitten. "But, really, all good?"

Hope gives her a dorky thumbs up. She kind of hates her reflexes. "Yep. It's all good."

"Busy today?"

"Another sentence fragment," Hope sing-songs, and somehow it's gratifying to give Josie a taste of her own medicine.

Josie gives a loud sigh, but her eyes are bright. "Hope, are you busy today?"

She ducks her head, but it doesn't do much to hide her smile. "I'm not. Coming over?"

"I'm not so sure that I want to, now that you've gone out of your way to correct me," Josie teases, stopping a few feet away from her classroom door. She pulls her backpack further up her shoulder. "My pride is easily wounded."

I know, Hope wants to say, because she does know—because that was something the brunette had shared with her in confidence sophomore year. "Noted," Hope says instead, because Josie probably doesn't think she remembers. It might even be weird that she still remembers. Hope feels like she's trying to fly an airplane for the first time with a blindfold on. An emergency landing would be nice, but she's pretty sure it'll end with a crash.

"I would like to come over, though, if you'll have me," she says, suddenly serious. "I know I've been kind of, like, living there recently. I don't mean to."

Hope lifts one shoulder. "'S okay. I know how it is with your parents." Josie gives a tight smile, one that says thanks, but I don't want to talk about that, and Hope retreats without a fight. "Like I said, you're welcome anytime. You aren't a burden, or anything. And my mom loves you."

"She just loves that I make you do your homework," Josie teases, but she looks a little pleased at the shorter girl’s words. Her expression sobers up soon, and she looks Hope in the eye. "You know that you can tell me no, right? I know I kind of give off this air, a sort of 'if you say no to me you'll be sorry' thing, but that's not how I am."

"I never thought you were," Hope says, sincere. "I just always took it as, like, you're used to getting your way. But not as a bad thing, like you've gotten stuff handed to you, just, like…" She fumbles for some decent words. "You work for what you get, obviously. I just, I mean, it looks like confidence to me. Like you don't put up with people's shit. It's nice."

"I can honestly say that I've never met a person who found that quality of mine admirable, but thank you," Josie says, and her eyes are all mirth; a lighter shade compared to the dark brown color they typically are. Hope has trouble looking away from them. "I like your politeness."

"Mom raised me right." She shrugs off her praise; it really should go to her mom, in the end.

"Modest, too," Josie mentions. Hope can feel that ever-present blush warming her neck. Damn her blood vessels.

"Thanks," she says, after a pause. She avoids her eyes until she feels like she can look into them without falling any further in love. "Means a lot."

Overhead, the bell rings, sending the hallways into mayhem. Hope gets shoved closer to Josie by someone who clearly wasn't watching where they were going, but she doesn't waste any anger on it besides a small scowl tossed over her shoulder. "I'll see you later?" she says, turning back to Josie.

The brunette twin is a little closer than she remembers. Hope breathes in, breathes out. She’s fine. "Yeah, of course. Lunch," Josie replies.

"Right. Lunch," Hope says. Josie’s just a few inches taller than her. "Uh, the bell… Rang. I have class."

"I'm aware," Josie says, clearly entertained. Definitely teasing her. There's surely a blush staining her cheeks, but she tries not to think about that, out of fear that she'll get more embarrassed and break out in hives.

Before Hope can merge into the crowd of students, Josie reaches out to squeeze her upper arm. The small gesture makes her heart beat at a pace just barely faster than what's normal. Hope, with a hand that definitely shouldn't be shaking as much as it is, reaches up to hold onto Josie’s upper arm, too. It's like a hug, just a little easier on Hope’s heart and mind. She doesn't even want to think about being that close to Josie, knees knocking and chests brushing. Yeah, that's definitely something she doesn't want to get into.

"Go to class," Josie tells her, a little smirk on her face. Hope stares before she nods, or maybe nods while she stares—it's all a blur. She’s pretty sure her last lucid thought was about two months ago, before Josie had fallen right back into her life like she'd never left.

"Bye," she says, but she's not sure if she can even hear it over the chaos in the hallway. Because she's a lot more selfish with Josie than she is with anything else, she doesn't drop her hand from the girl’s arm until she's stepped far enough back that she can't reach her anymore.

She walks down the quickly clearing hallway, the tardy bell soon to ring, and tries to look less winded before she slips into her first period, a good 10 seconds after the bell. She apparently looks distraught enough that even Mr. Keaves doesn't chastise her.

"You alright?" Pen questions, to her left. She looks concerned. Hope feels a manic laugh bubbling up from her chest, and she just barely manages to hold it in.

"Fine," she replies, strained. Her lungs refuse to expand as much as they should, so Hope just sits there, trying to force herself to breathe. "Just—had to run a little, since I was almost late. That's all."

Pen skeptically eyes her, but Hope doesn't really care. She’s still feeling intoxicated from being close to Josie. Her heartbeat feels ridiculously loud. It's a wonder Peneleope can't hear it herself.

"Whatever you say," Pen says, warily. "We're going to the Mystic Grill after school. You coming?"

Hope bites back the question on the tip of her tongue—is Josie coming?—and gives a short, terse nod. "Yeah, 'course. As always. Normal."

"Are you sure you're alright? You and Raf didn't, like, light up or anything did you?"

"What? You know I hate weed," Hope says, making a face. "And even if I didn't, I wouldn't, like, at school. That's not smart."

"Just checking," Pen says, holding up her hands in a placating gesture. "You seem off. And if running for a minute makes you breathless, you're screwed for soccer season."

Hope makes a grumpy noise, but doesn't respond past that. She stares at her hands; finds it weird that just a few minutes ago they were touching Josie’s skin. For being as close as they are, she and Josie aren't very physical. Hope’s no stranger to being tactile, and she tends to enjoy it once she's close enough to someone, but she finds it hard to initiate anything with Josie. She refuses to make her uncomfortable. Even if she's probably a great hugger.

"Dude!" Pen says, shoving her shoulder none-too-gently. Hope grips the edge of her desk to keep from slipping out of her seat, sending her best friend a wide-eyed look.

"You could have killed me," Hope gasps dramatically, though it probably wouldn't have done any more than bruised her ego. And maybe her ass.

"We're supposed to get into pairs, which you would know if you weren't all zoned out," Pen tells her pointedly. "What's up? For real. Is it family stuff?" Her best friend lowers her voice, brow dipping in concern.

"It's not," Hope reassures him immediately. Pen can be a real mother hen when she learns about anyone close to her going through a hard time, and she doesn't want to make her friend worry. "Just, you know. Stuff."

"Oh," Pen says, like she's suddenly learned every secret the world has. "It's a Josie thing."

And, Hope supposes, it was pretty futile to try and keep it to herself at all. Pen knows her better than most, and, well, she's not blind; Hope’s sure it's more or less written all over her face. She’s never been gifted at masking her emotions. "Is not," Hope says, just to be obstinate.

"Did you guys…?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"No," Hope repeats, shrugging to herself. As much as she'd like some kind of physical affection to cement hers and Josie's friendship, she won't die without a hug here and there. She’ll take what Josie gives her.

"That's unfortunate," Pen says, twenty different kinds of smug. "Maya and I kissed."

Hope pulls a pencil out of her pocket, then proceeds to chuck it at the girl. "Why didn't you tell me, you big—?"

"Ms. Mikaelson, please do not throw things," Mr. Keaves reprimands tiredly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but at school. Hope shares the sentiment. She apologizes.

"Loser," Pen says under her breath.

"No name calling either, Ms. Park," Mr. Keaves adds, not even looking up from the stack of ungraded tests before him.

"We'll talk later," Hope says firmly, finally taking a look at the worksheet that's been on her desk since the bell rang ten minutes ago. "Guess we can learn about appositives for the time being."

"I'd much rather talk about why you're still blushing," Pen muses, staring at Hope expectantly.

"I am not," She says confidently, since her face doesn't feel hot. "Seriously. I can't fail this class. I won't graduate."

"Oh, stop whining." Pen gives Hope a little smile to show she doesn't mean to be as abrasive as she sounds. "Now. What the fuck is an appositive?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone for so long BUT it is the last week of school before break, thank GOD!!


	13. Chapter 13

When it comes time for lunch, Pen doesn't even pretend like she'll sit by Hope’s side like she has for the past nine or so years. She sits beside Maya. Typical. Hope would probably be annoyed if both of their faces weren't lighting up like kids seeing Disney World for the first time.

"Are they dating yet?" a voice asks, far closer to her ear than Hope expects. She jumps.

Josie, on reflex, flinches back. Hope blinks at her owlishly, and the brunette takes a moment to have a laugh at her expense. Hope probably just stares dreamily, if she's being honest with herself. "Hi," she greets, after a few seconds of basking in Josie’s quiet laughter and even more muted smile. God.

"Hello," she replies cheerily. "Are they?" She tips her head towards their pair of friends, and Hope turns to look at them at the same moment they turn to look at herself and Josie.

"What?" she and Pen say in unison, which sends Josie and Maya into a laughing fit together.

Maya pushes her tray over so that Pen has access to her food. Hope would probably scoff if she weren't so happy for her friend. "I don't know the details," Hope tells Josie in an undertone, shrugging. "Probably, though. They look cozy."

Jose hums in acknowledgement, but she changes the subject. "Are you ready for the economics quiz tomorrow?"

"Of course," Hope says drily, since it's a pretty widely-accepted fact in their group that she's never really prepared for anything. "Might need a bit of help."

"I'd be honored," Josie says, though Hope didn't really ask. She guesses it's kind of a widely-accepted fact that she and Josie are study partners, too. "I have a proposal."

"Seems a little soon for that," Hope mutters under her breath, smiling proudly when Josie barks out a laugh—a real one, where her eyes crinkle at the corners. Hope’s staring. The only thing that helps her look away is the fear of having that seemingly ever-present blush creep up her cheeks.

She’s known Josie for a while, is the thing, and she's always recognized the fact that the brunette is pretty, but sometimes she catches Hope off guard with how stunning she can be. Little dents appear in her cheeks—dimples, Hope thinks with a sense of dread. She’s truly a goner.

"That was funny," she tells her, like Hope wasn't just hanging onto every second of her laughter. She smiles and nods her head in some form of a bow. "Seriously, though, sometime I think you should have to speak in full sentences for a whole day. It'll be a start."

"A start?" Hope asks, raising an eyebrow. "To what?"

"Improving your stunning lack of English skills," Josie says plaintively.

She tries to paste some offended expression off her face. "I'm dyslexic," she announces. "Where is my sympathy?"

"That's hardly an excuse, since I am, too, and I can manage full sentences."

"You also have a 4.0 GPA," Hope mentions. She can't even break a 2.5, but she doesn't mention that. Josie would probably make it her personal mission to homework her to death until her grades are higher than they've ever been.

"It'd just be for a day," Josie says, waving her off. "You'd manage."

"I didn't even agree!"

Josie gives her a blank look, as if to say would you really say no? Hope, very quickly, realizes that she can't argue with the taller girl’s unspoken words. "Fine. One day," she acquiesces. "When are you coming over?"

"I have to run two errands first, but it'll be pretty soon after school. Why?"

Hope shrugs. She doesn't really have an answer. "No reason. Errands?"

"Wait, are you two skipping out on us?" Lizzie asks loudly, attracting attention from everyone at their table and a few people from the table over. Hope tries to express her annoyance with a subtle glare in the direction of their token boisterous person of the group. "We're all going to the Mystic Grill after school."

"Hey, you promised you would go," Pen whines, scowling. "You missed it last time."

"It wouldn't be the same without you two," MG adds kindly, warm brown eyes glancing between them. Hope thinks that it's MG’s words that tip the scale for both her and Josie.

"I think we can hang out for a while," Josie allows, after a second. "I just have to hit the post office before five. And I'll need a few hours to inject some information into Hope, here."

"I'm sure that's exactly what you'll be doing," Pen mumbles, at the same time Maya tells them, "I'm sure you guys will have more than enough time."

Maya shoves Pen shoulder, giving her a scandalized, incredulous look, and Hope was planning on stepping on her best friend's toes, but she thinks Maya’s wrath'll probably do the trick for her. Pen gives her a reluctantly apologetic foot-nudge, and Maya makes a gesture as if she's saying sorry on her behalf. Hope wants to make a comment about how incredibly married they are, but she decides to operate by the means of the golden rule. And she'd prefer that Pen didn't make such a comment again.

"Anyways, errands," Josie starts slowly, and she's casting a confused glance at Pen. The sudden silence that had taken up residence between the four of them dissolves, Maya and Pen doing some weird whisper-and-touch-my-shoulder routine. "I have to drop off some letters at the post office for my dad, and I'd like to buy a book for English class if I have time to."

"Oh, alright," Hope responds, shifting a little in her seat. "Do you want me to go with you? Or, just—we can meet at my house, if that's better. Or not."

"You can come with me, if you want," Josie tells her, bumping her shoulder against Hope's in a way that looks, feels, and probably is accidental. A girl can dream. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Then I'll go," Hope says immediately, lifting one shoulder. "I'd just be sitting around waiting for you anyways."

She regrets the words about three seconds after they leave her mouth. She's surely the most idiotic person in this country, if not in the entire world. Hope's always had a problem with holding back certain information; she was raised to be honest, and sometimes she forgets where she's supposed to draw a line. This is why her crushes are always painfully obvious.She more or less tells them that she's got it bad.

"That's Hope for you," Pen butts in, coming to her rescue in the midst of a thick silence. "She gets really excited when she's having a friend over. Like a puppy."

"Except I don't jump on people," Hope says, following Pen's lead. "And I don't think I've ever licked someone as a greeting."

"That'd be pretty unsanitary," Josie mentions idly.

"I've done it," MG announces, frowning in confusion. "I don't think they spoke to me again."

"Shocker," Lizzie and Alyssa deadpan in unison. Hope loves her friends.

Having nearly forgotten that it's their lunch period, Hope glances down at her tray. Her fruit cup has mysteriously disappeared, and Pen looks guilty.

"It was actually me," Maya says, before Hope can kick her best friend's shin as punishment for stealing. Maya hooks her chin over Pen shoulder, running a hand down her arm. "I stole it for her."

"I was perfectly capable of stealing it myself," Pen interjects, reaching up a hand to rest over Maya's, but she looks pleased that she would perform thievery for her.

"You were staring at it, politely waiting for Hope to finish her conversation with Josie. And we all know their conversations last forever," Maya says, kissing Pen's shoulder before untangling herself from her. "Your manners are very cute, don't look so disgruntled."

Pen brightens up at that, eyes lighting up when she turns to look at her. With literal stars in her eyes. Hope is well on her way to being physically sick. She spares Josie a glance as she takes a sip of her apple juice, and nearly snorts the drink out of her nose when she sees the brunette's face—caught between disgust and endearment. Josie turns her affectionate gaze on Hope, while she stares at the apple juice that's just spilled on her shirt.

"You're an idiot," Josie informs her, before she promptly leaves the table.

Hope watches her leave, trying to see where she's going, but Pen kicks her foot beneath the table. "Smooth," she tells Hope, nodding to her shirt.

"I'm aware of how incredibly not smooth I am, you really don't have to rub it in," Hope grumbles, making Pen and Maya smile. Josie returns to the table with a pile of napkins and a cup of water, passing it off to Hope wordlessly.

There's not really much hope for the giant water stain on her shirt after, but she figures it'll dry. She focuses on cleaning her arm next, listening to Lizzie and MG chatting idly about Halloween plans. She's guessing that most of her friends aren't going to dress up, but Hope wouldn't mind having a little get together. "We should have a scary movie marathon," Jed suggests, entering into the conversation.

Hope makes an interested noise, nodding her head while she tries to get the apple juice out of her shirt. She feels like he's time traveled back to her elementary school days, where she wasn't coordinated enough to walk and drink out of a juice box at the same time. "Pulled the thought right out of my head, Jed."

"I don't like scary movies, really," Josie comments, drawing circles in the condensation on the side of the cup of water. "I mean, I like the one's with plot, but I hate the ones that are just blood and boring exorcisms."

"Boring exorcisms," Kaleb says flatly. "That's, like, an oxymoron. Exorcisms are awesome."

"The exorcism scenes always look ridiculous, and you know it," Lizzie says, taking Josie's side. "Blood is fine, but it's always better with some murder mystery type thing."

Josie hums in agreement, listing off a few crime movies she likes, detailing the plots of each one, boring everyone but Hope and MG to tears, more likely than not. Midway through Josie's raving about some movie called "Zodiac," Hope shifts her arm and nearly sends the water cup toppling over.

She and Josie reach out to steady it at the same time, her reacting absentmindedly while Hope's hand flies out to keep it from damaging her shirt any further. She pauses mid-sentence when her hand falls to rest over Hope's, glancing down in confusion, then up to meet her eyes.

Hope undoubtedly should move her hand, especially now that the whole table's stopped to look down at what's caused Josie's sudden speechlessness. "Sorry," Hope says nonsensically, disoriented from the intensity of the taller girl's gaze. What is she apologizing for? She saved them both from wet shoes and clothes, probably. Sh draws her hand back, and Josie does the same.

A heavy blanket of tension settles across the table. Hope only feels slightly guilty that she's the one who caused it, but she can't think much past the sound of her heartbeat in her ears. She wills the blush away.

Thankfully, before it can get any more painfully uncomfortable, the bell rings to signal the end of lunch. Hope breathes an audible sigh of relief.

"I'll see you later," she mutters, addressing the table at large, but not really looking at any of them. She tosses her lunch tray, a half-eaten chicken sandwich and an untouched serving of macaroni and cheese spilling into the trash can. She mentally groans the entire walk to her next class, and swears to herself that she'll stop acting a fool in front of Josie. She owes her ego that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh the chills and shocks of touching your one true love.... couldn't be me


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated cause I just got my laptop today :)

After the seventh period bell rings, Hope really wants nothing more than to go home, beg her mom for a hot chocolate, and sit on the couch while she picks out a movie for them. That's usually her first reaction after a bad day, or a particularly embarrassing day, in this case.

Sadly, she's made a few promises that tie her up for a few hours. Granted, he's sure Josie would let her get out of studying, especially with how adamant the girl is about her telling the brunette no when Hope's not up to hanging out; but more than hiding from the world and relaying all of her mortification to her mom, she doesn't want to sacrifice any time spent with Josie. Plus, she really does need help with economics. And Josie could probably teach her all about appositives, on top of that.

Hope wants Josie to teach her a few other things, too, like how she likes to be kissed or when she likes her hand to be held. But she has a feeling that's reserved for people she's actually dating, or, at the very least, interested in. And Hope's gotten a vibe or two from her, particularly endeared looks or smiles that take just that much longer to fade, but she's always hated assumptions. There's too much room for error.

Josie catches up to her right as she's stepping off the last of the stairs that lead up to the entrance of their school. "Hey, do you think you could do me a favor? It's completely fine if not, since I know one of the other's will, but you're the first person I've run into."

"Yeah, shoot," Hope says, continuing her walk towards her car. Josie falls into step beside her.

"My dad's car won't start, for whatever reason. Well, actually, it's from the 1980s or something so I can't say I'm all that surprised. Anyways, he has a flight in about two hours, and he needs to borrow my car to get to the airport, so—"

"You need a ride," Hope finishes, already nodding her assent. "Yeah, sure, that's fine. Just for today, or school tomorrow, too?"

Josie bites her lip, looking a little hesitant. "I'm actually not sure. The airport's a long drive and he's told me that he's going east to visit family, but I'm not sure how many days he'll be gone. I'm staying with my mom for the time being."

"Well, just let me know what you need," Hope says, genuine as can be.

"You're the best," Josie tells her, and it sounds heartfelt. "Honestly, like… I need to send Hayley flowers for raising such a great daughter."

She shrugs, bashful and pleased all the same. She feels herself blushing, but she's okay with it this time. "Thank you."

Josie gives her a smile as they stop next to Hope's vehicle—a black Dodge Neon that had taken months of hint-dropping and eventual begging until her mom surprised her with it. Hope leans a hand on it lovingly, just as Josie reaches out for her arm again. "Thank you, really. You're a lifesaver."

"Can't say I've ever been called a flotation device, but thanks anyways," Hope says, trying her hand at wit.

Apparently, it works, because Josie's smile widens before she bursts out laughing, and doesn't stop for a few minutes. Hope laughs with her, since Josie's happiness is more contagious than she thinks. "You're ridiculous," she tells the auburnette, after she's caught her breath. She looks dangerously close to breaking out into giggles again, and Hope wishes she were funny enough to make her do so. "Just follow me to my house. Please."

Hope salutes her. "I'm on it."

She turns and walks back towards the school, and Hope feels bad that she made her walk to the furthest edge of the parking lot, which is where she usually ends up due to her near-tardiness every day. Of course Josie would be one of the first ones at school. And even then, she probably has a reserved space for being one of the top students in the senior class.

It only takes a few minutes for Josie to drive past her, so Hope backs out and follows her. Thankfully, Josie's one of those people that think to put on their blinker a little earlier, conscious of someone following her, so Hope knows exactly where she's going.

When they finally arrive at Josie's house, not quite on the outskirts of town, but not quite in town either, she's a little shocked. The house is smaller than she would expect it to be, and not necessarily run down, but even the untrained eye can see that it could use a repair or two. She's not unfamiliar with less than favorable living spaces, since she and her mom had their fair share of shitty apartments before they moved from the more dangerous sections of the city to the suburbs, but she thinks Josie deserves better, the same way her mom did.

Hope gets out of her car, since she doesn't want Josie's father to have a bad impression of her, and she doesn't want the brunette to think that she's put off by a house like hers, because she certainly isn't. It seems she's made the right decision as Josie gives her a grateful smile before she leads the way up the stairs.

She can hear the air conditioner whirring, and can feel the way the wooden steps teeter precariously as they step up them, but she doesn't voice her observations. Josie pulls open the screen door and holds it for Hope, calling out for her dad.

"Kitchen!" a man calls back, with a smoother voice than Hope expected. For some reason, she'd always thought of Josie's dad as some intimidating man, with a stone voice and an even rougher attitude. The man Hope follows Josie to see is similar to what she expected; long unkempt hair with a scruffy beard and a little bit of a belly that could be seen through his shirt.

"Hi, Dad," Josie greets. The man smiles tightly and tips his glass of water at her as a hello before he looks back to Hope. "That's Hope."

"Chemistry Hope?" Josie's father asks, looking a little stricken. "I thought you two didn't talk anymore."

Hope sees Josie blush for the first time, right there in her very own kitchen with her shoes squeaking against the linoleum. She gives her dad an extremely exasperated look, and Hope almost feels bad. The man looks entirely clueless. "We ran into each other at the fair a few months ago," Hope says, deciding to take this question, while Josie turns her back on both of them to apparently rearrange some mail on the counter. "Kept in touch since then."

"Well that's nice to hear,"Josie's father says, smiling. Like Josie, his smile transforms his face from something guarded and harsh to open and bright. "It's always nice to see Josie making friends."

The brunette turns to them, looking no less flustered than she was a few seconds ago. Hope can feel an amused smile twitching at her lips, and like Josie can read her thoughts, she narrows her eyes at her as if to say let's not forget about all of those times you've blushed around me. "We've been friends, Dad," she voices, after a second, still giving Hope a look.

"I'm Alaric," the man says finally, reaching over to shake Hope’s hand. Hope performs the action without hesitation.

"I'm Hope Marshall," she says, though the man already knows her name.

This seems to gain Alaric’s interest. "Ah, any relation to Hayley Marshall?"

Hope beams proudly. "Yes sir."

"She's the worst momma's girl ever," Josie pipes up, but she's giving her an indulgent smile.

"I know Hayley," Alaric says, smoothing down his button-up shirt that shows signs of wear. "She's a very nice woman. You have a great mother."

"I know, sir," Hope says, nodding. "She's the best."

"Worst momma's girl ever," Josie repeats, crossing the kitchen to nudge Hope's shoulder. The shorter girl drops her chin to her chest while she tries to get her smile down to a normal level. "Anyways, Dad, my car's out front. Keys here," Josie tells him, pointing to the set on the counter. "I have half a tank of gas, which should be enough to get you to the airport and back."

Her dad nods gratefully. "Thank you, Josie. I should be back in three or four days, if it all goes according to plan." He pauses, giving Hope a considering look. "Perhaps your friend can give you all necessary rides until then?"

"Already worked out, sir," Hope says, giving him a grin that hopefully says 'I'll keep your daughter out of danger.'

Apparently, her father approves, because he claps Hope on the shoulder Josie isn't pressed up against. And she is. Still pressed up against her shoulder. Hope tries not to think about that. "Good," the man says. "I'll be heading to the airport now. You kids stay out of trouble."

He opens a cabinet, pulling out a bag of cough drops. When he tries to close the cabinet, one of the hinges breaks, leaving the door hanging at an odd angle. Alaric blinks at it.

"Right, well," the man says, a puzzled look slipping onto his face. "That certainly came out of nowhere."

"We're leaving now," Josie says, under her breath, pushing at Hope’s shoulder with her knuckles. "I'll be right behind you."

Hope might not understand geometric proofs or anything, but she knows a dismissal when she hears one. With one last handshake and a promise to look out for Josie (one that elicits an embarrassed groan from the lady herself), she heads out the front door.

The steps shake back and forth as she goes down them, and Hope tries not to feel guilty. She and her mom have a pretty great living situation right now, with a two bedroom house, complete with a spacious living room and decent sized kitchen—Hope even has her own bathroom, this time, and her mom has her small den that she calls her office.

Though it isn't her place at all, and surely not her business, Hope wishes that Josie had a better place to come home to. Granted, her mom's house is probably nicer if Josie's mentions of her wealth is anything to go by, but she has a feeling this place is more like home to the brunette. Her posture was more relaxed than she'd ever seen it, and she seemed in her element as she moved around the space.

Josie ambles out of the front door a few moments later, blessedly saving Hope from her wandering thoughts. She hates feeling bad for others about as much as others hate her feeling bad for them. "Hey, ready to go?" she asks, far too brightly. Her tone doesn't match her eyes.

"I am. Everything okay?"

"Great. Perfect, actually, let's leave now." She tugs the passenger side door open and gets in, and Hope just stares at the empty air for a second. She hates pushing people, but her curiosity is usually pretty hard to shove under the rug.

She waits until they've driven down the road before she asks again. "You know you can talk to me about things, right?" Hope asks, feeling somewhat nervous for unknown reasons. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but, just—I mean. I care. I'd listen, if you had anything to say."

She pauses at a stop sign, and while she usually goes for a rolling stop, she actually lets her car shift backwards while she turns to Josie, trying to communicate just how earnest she is.

Josie gives her a look that's a lot softer than she usually gets from the girl, and she tries not to melt beneath her warm gaze. Hope shifts her hand from its typical position on her car wheel, running it around the circumference idly. "I know you would," Josie replies, gently. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome," she says, holding her gaze for a moment more before she keeps driving. "Like, nothing you could tell me would ever run me off. Unless you're, like, a serial killer. That might be a little weird."

Josie laughs, but it sounds more polite than it does genuine. Hope wants to frown. "I'm not a serial killer, I swear. And even if I were, I don't think I'd kill you."

"Why, because I'm your friend?" Hope asks, glancing at her. If Josie doesn't want to talk, that's fine, but she can tell something's bothering her and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least take her mind off it.

"No, because it'd be difficult to kill the best person on earth without leaving with a guilty conscience," Josie replies plaintively. Hope smiles at the side of her face until she's worried she's driving half in the other lane.

They arrive at the Mystic Grill later than everyone else, as expected, but the most annoying part is how everyone goes quiet as soon as they enter the small sweet shop.

Pen mutters something under her breath that warrants a twitchy smile from Maya and a brief guffaw from Lizzie, but other than that, they stay weirdly silent. Hope is concerned. "Hey, guys," she says, slowly.

"Hello, HopeAndJosie," Lizzie says, quickly, resting her face in one palm like she's about to hear a good story. "Who arrived together. Sketchy, if you ask me."

Hope looks at Josie, not sure if she's allowed to disclose the reason, but she merely shrugs. "Josie's dad needed her car. We're hanging out later anyways, so I figured I'd just give her a ride."

"Very chivalrous of you, Hope," Jed praises, sweetly. Hope sends him a smile. She’s always liked MG, even if he’s a junior compared to her senior. Despite being younger, he’s never struggled with maturity around their group like MG has. And he is a senior. Granted, as much as the group at large groans at MG's childish antics, they're kind of attached to him, too.

"I'm going to get a milkshake," Hope announces, since nobody's changed the subject. "Josie?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I left my wallet in the car anyways." She waves her off.

"Shouldn't have said that," Pen sing-songs, tsking as if to say what a shame. "Our Hope here is about to offer to pay for you." Pen looks up at her best friend knowingly, and Hope gives her a playfully annoyed look.

When Josie glances up at her, Hope smiles sheepishly. "I was," she tells Josie, lifting one shoulder. "Come on."

"It's fine, I really don't need anything," Josie says, trying to refuse. Everyone resumes talking around them, and Hope doesn't miss the way Pen leans into Maya like it's second nature, or the way Lizzie and JEd both are trying their hardest not to laugh at the string of corny jokes that MG's unleashing on them. Even Alyssa, who usually proclaims that she'd rather die than hear knock-knock jokes, seems amused.

"I'm going to end up buying you a vanilla milkshake whether you like it or not; resistance is futile."

Josie’s gaze snaps away from where Lizzie and MG are both leaning over some assignment they were paired together for, settling on her. "How did you know I like vanilla milkshakes?"

Hope wishes she were smart enough to say something like lucky guess or MG mentioned it, but instead what she says is, "You told me sophomore year."

"That was forever ago," Josie’s points out, pressing her lips together. "I can't believe you remember that…"

There's definitely that too-hot, pulse-quickening feeling spreading through Hope’s chest. Here comes the hives, she thinks cynically. "It seemed like an important fact. And look how useful it is now." She gestures vaguely. Josie just cocks her head to the side, looking at Hope in a way that makes her stomach turn over.

Because she was apparently raised in a jungle and grew up without any sense of self-restraint, she reaches out and grabs her hand before pulling the brunette up with her. "Stop fighting with me and come get a milkshake."

Josie follows her to the counter, and they both order—peanut butter for Hope, vanilla for Josie. She looks incredibly pleased about the whole thing, and keeps sending Hope these barely-there smiles that makes the shorter girl want to shove her head in the nearest freezer to cool herself down a bit.

When they approach the table this time, they don't fall silent. Pen seamlessly drags Hope into an intense debate about who's the best live band with Kaleb and Raf, and Lizzie asks Josie for help on a question she nor MG are unsure of how to answer. Hope’s always thought that she has two families; the one that consists of her mom, and the one that consists of Pen and Alyssa and the rest of her friends she's gotten remarkably close with in the past few months. She’s always been one for sentiment, and she takes a moment to just look around the table with a smile, glad that she's met the people she has.

"Gross," Pen says after a moment. "Hope’s smiling at all of us."

Hope laughs and rolls her eyes. "Just happy I have all of you as my friends," she says, sweet as can be, and everyone groans like she's the biggest nuisance out there. Pen even kicks her foot while she scrunches up her nose, but the smiles that cross everyone's faces gives them away.

Once she and Josie have both polished off their respective milkshakes, the brunette tugs at her shirt sleeve, presses her knuckles against Hope’s arm, and nods towards the door. "Would it be okay if we left? I just want to make sure I get to the post office before it closes."

Hope glances at her phone, reading a 4:15 PM. "Yeah, we should go."

"I can't believe you're ditching me," Pen bemoans, like Hope ducking out a half hour earlier than usual is the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'm sure you'll keep yourself entertained," Hope says mildly, not feeling shy in the slightest when she gives Maya a pointed look. She’s not sure which of them blushes first, but Maya does lean against Pen's shoulder, like she's trying to hide her face.

She and Josie leave with a round of goodbyes, and Josie is grinning smugly. "They're dating."

"They're so dating."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's any confusion please let me know so I can clear it up.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super long but not super short :)

The drive to the post office is mostly quiet, save for the hum of the radio. Hope’s thought process is that they'll spend about ten minutes here before either going to the bookstore twenty minutes away or heading to her house for a cram session.

She doesn't expect Josie to pull out a stack of letters about as tall as a bottle of soda. "What in the hell is that," Hope says flatly. She doesn't think she's ever seen so many letters in his life.

"My dad is trying to get some inquiries off of his credit," she replies with a shrug. "They're already addressed, we just have to buy stamps and then toss them in the mailbox."

"That's a lot of stamps." Hope eyes the letters suspiciously. "Won't they be annoyed that you're sending them so many letters at once?"

"Hope, they're going to different people."

"Oh, well… Right. That makes sense."

Josie gives her a look like she's a few moments away from laughing at her. She holds the door open for the brunette as they enter, glancing around while Josie buys stamps. She doesn't waste any time in recruiting Hope to help her stick them on the letters.

"I'm pretty good at this," Hope says, four letters in. "I think I could do this for a living."

Josie snorts lightly, elbowing her side. "Shut up."

"I'm serious," she says, trying to sound wounded. "I mean, of course I already have my one job as a flotation device, but that's really only part time. I think I could manage."

Josie makes a choked-off sound, burying her face in her hands. A moment later, she groans, but Hope’s pretty sure she's smiling. "Shut up, Hope."

She shrugs; speaks before she really thinks it through. "Nah, I'm good. I like making you laugh."

Josie goes quiet for a second, and usually this is the part where Hope’s mind starts racing, regretting what she's said. Instead, she feels weirdly unapologetic about that particular statement. She does like making Josie laugh after all, and it's important that she knows that.

She clears her throat while she smooths out a stamp. Hope glances at her as she pulls another one off the strip, placing it at the corner of the envelope. "I don't know if I ever explained to you how it works between Lizzie and I and our parents."

Hope stays quiet, figuring that Josie'll take her time to say what she needs to say, and her pointless interjections are far from needed. She does take a few minutes to continue, and by the time she starts talking, they're in front of the mail slot, dropping letters in one by one.

"Usually, we live with my mom one week, and my dad the next, then my mom again," Josie explains. Hope makes a quiet, sympathetic noise, and Josie sighs. "Yeah, I know. It's really annoying; the whole alternating week-to-week, but it was what the courts saw fit, I'm guessing. I don't know, I wasn't at the trial."

"That sucks, though. Seems unstable," she comments, pressing her elbow up against Josie’s just to let her know that she's still listening.

"It is," she admits with a sigh. "But it's not as bad as it could be. It's not really the living situation that's such a problem, it's just…"

She pauses, then rubs at her forehead like there's a headache forming. Hope instantly feels guilty. "You don't have to tell me anything," she says softly and vaguely uncomfortable. As good as she is at recognizing emotions, she's not always the best at reacting to them; she's unsure of whether or not she should offer up a comforting touch, or some encouraging words, or if she shouldn't do anything.

"I know I don't, but I trust you," the brunette tells her simply, like those words aren't nearly knocking Hope off her feet. "And you actually know the most about the situation, out of all of my friends. I met MG and Kaleb and Maya last year, at the start of eleventh grade, and I was trying not to think so much about the whole thing. Lizzie and I really only told them the basics. You know more because of sophomore year."

And, well, Josie knows how to make a girl feel special, Hope guesses. Something swells up in her chest, like she's proud that she's the one she decided to entrust so much sensitive information with. Hope’s always been a huge believer in the philosophy that close friends are often made through secret-sharing, and she wants to hear every single locked-up thought Josie is willing to tell her. Hope’s not really that secretive of a guy, so she doesn't have much to share, but she's been told by Pen time and time again that she's a great listener. Something about high empathy levels.

"Let's talk in the car," Hope suggests, once another person joins them in the lobby of the post office. Josie nods her agreement.

She sees Josie rubbing her arms to fight off the chill outside, so she turns the heat up as soon as they've shut their car doors. "Want me to drive, or do you just want to sit?"

"Drive, please," Josie answers. She starts backing out, but she's interrupted by Josie insisting that the shorter girl put her seatbelt on. "I have a point to all of this, I swear."

"I believe you." Hope feels some ache in her chest that's surely akin to longing. She wants to hold her hand, just to give her some physical comfort, since she's not always that great with words.

"So, going back and forth from Mom and Dad's can be just… Weird, sometimes. I mean, you saw Dad's place."

"It seemed homey," Hope puts in, because it did. The couches had a rip here and there, but the house was lived in, and it felt warm and inviting much like Hope's own house.

"You don't have to say that," Josie tells her with a short, self-deprecating chuckle, not quite meeting her eyes. "You watched a cabinet fall off its hinges."

Josie's confidence is something Hope really loves about her, and it makes her sad that it's so easily diminished by something as silly as a faulty cabinet door. If Hope could make a living that way, she'd stay by Josie's side as her very own personalized confidence boost, defiantly pinching her shoulder every time she said a single negative thing about herself.

She shrugs, making it a point to press her elbow against hers; nudging little _I don't care_ s and _it doesn't change the way I see you_ s into her skin. "Just because it's falling apart a little, doesn't mean it can't still be home," she says wisely, thinking of the apartments she and her mom inhabited, with thin walls and dripping sinks and creaking floorboards and stairs that never felt all that safe to walk on.

Josie gives her a vaguely surprised look, and Hope just lifts her eyebrows. She can be insightful and philosophical, too. "Right. I already told you some of this, the day where I freaked out?" Hope nods when Josie looks at her, though Hope wouldn't use the phrase 'freaked out.' The reaction was appropriate, she thinks. "Well, growing up, Lizzie and I didn't really spend a lot of time with my parents, and the time we did spend with them, they were usually saying rude stuff about the other. So that's why me and my parents are kind of… Strained, I guess. Sometimes my mom actually tries to be my mom and it feels so awkward that we both end up ignoring each other for a day or two."

Hope’s chest tightens at that. She can't imagine where she'd be without her own mother's incessant coddling, neverending encouragement, and warm smiles. She’s gotten by well enough without a dad, but Hope doesn't even want to think about not being as close as she is with her mom. It makes sense, though, given the ease Josie has going about tough situations independently. She's probably spent half of life having to do things on her own.

"And it's fine, really, don't get that look on your face," Josie continues, noticing Hope’s stricken expression. "It's just… different. And I think it'll help you understand me more." She lets out a sigh, fidgets with a few curls while Hope takes the turn into her neighborhood. "The going back and forth... It's just not stable, and believe me when I say it's hard to maintain some form of sanity when you're constantly hearing two different sides to this big fight."

Hope, abruptly, feels angry and unforgiving towards anyone who's ever upset Josie. She deserves a lot of things, but being pushed and pulled from parent to parent isn't one of them.

"And my point is," Josie says finally, releasing a huge breath, "that I tend to hold people at arm's length. I'm sure you noticed. And I'm close with the girls and some of the boys, but not like I am with you, and I guess what I really mean is—"

"Josie, breathe," Hope suggests, only interrupting for the sake of ensuring her health and safety.

"I am," she says stubbornly, pulling in two deep breaths. Hope pulls into her driveway, but she doesn't even consider reaching for the door handle. "What I'm trying to say is that your friendship is really important to me. And I'm happy I met you."

Hope leaves the key in the ignition, but she shuts off the engine before she turns to her. "Probably not near as much as I am about meeting you."

"Don't you dare out-sap me," Josie says teasingly, but there's something like an unspoken thank you in her eyes. "When do I get my moment to shine?"

 _You always are to me_ is Hope’s first thought. She blushes, because even if she doesn't say it out loud, it's a ridiculous line. Definitely belonging in one of her mother's treasured romcoms, anyways.

"I..." Hope trails off. There's about a million ways she could go with that sentence, but the most apt follow-up to their conversation seems to be "I would like to hug you."

Josie blinks at her, so Hope even adds a "please."

"You don't have to ask," she says slowly, after a moment, expression soft. Then a smirk crosses her face, and Hope knows the brunette’s about to ridicule her. "You would be the type to need physical affection after an emotionally loaded conversation."

Hope hesitates visibly before she reaches out, latching onto the other girl’s shirt sleeve with one hand. She’s having her qualms about wrapping her arms around Josie and pulling her close, but these things take time. "Is that a bad thing?"

Josie waits until she looks up at her before she answers. "Not really," she decides. "Just a you thing, I guess."

Hope stares at where she's pinching her shirt sleeve between her fingers and thumb. "What are other 'me' things?"

"Procrastinating on hugging someone who wants to be hugged, evidently," Josie says drily, and Hope gives her a look before they both laugh. "Making 'wolfgirl' your password."

Hope blushes a little at that, pinching the fabric between her fingertips. She’s definitely going to hug Josie, she just needs to pregame for a little longer. She needs to get pumped. She needs to make this her absolute best hug ever to make sure Josie asks for them again, or at least accepts them.

"Drinking apple juice," Josie adds, which really doesn't make any sense at all. Hope gives her a weird look. "So a lot of other people drink apple juice, too, but it's something that's very… Hope. I associate it with you. Oh! Sucking at chemistry, that's got to be one."

"I didn't suck," Hope says immediately, but the way Josie narrows her eyes and tilts her head makes him reconsider. "Like, maybe a little. But I could hold my own."

"Hope, you asked me for carbon's atomic mass probably six times a day. We were told to memorize it the second week of school."

"Maybe I just wanted a reason to talk to you," she shoots back, which is half-true. To be fair, she always got atomic masses mixed up.

"That's…" Josie trails off, and Hope catches her looking the slightest bit bashful. The shorter girl wants to touch her fingers to every little barely-there freckle on her face. "That's stupid."

"No, you're supposed to say that's really kind; I'm a great person, everything you've ever wanted in a friend…" Hope gestures, like she should pick up from there.

"What happened to the modest Hope? Bring her back. I'd like to have a word."

Hope rolls her eyes. "Modest Hope speaking. How may I help you?"

"You've gotten mouthy, too," Josie mock-gasps. "Who in the world corrupted you?"

Hope gives her a blank look, then stares at an eyelash that's fallen on her cheekbone. "Take a wild guess."

Josie, completely ruining Hope’s preparation for the Best Hug Ever, reaches forward and hugs her neck, cold fingertips hinting at her skin. "Well, if you didn't make yourself such an easy target..." Josie tells her lowly.

Hope hands fumble a little as she tries to hug Josie back, not quite sure how she should go about it. Eventually, they settle on her upper back. "Even if I weren't an easy target, you'd still pick on me. You know you would."

"Just trying to toughen you up," she mumbles against her shoulder, and Hope nudges the brunette with her chin in retaliation. "You're too nice for the real world."

Hope’s fully prepared to come up with a proper response to that, just as soon as she manages to dislodge her heart from her throat and proves successful in tucking it right back beneath her ribcage. Sadly, her heart is still very much in her throat when her phone starts vibrating from where it sits in her center console.

Josie leans back immediately, but doesn't take her hands off the auburnette, which is somehow both relieving and intensely torturous. She reaches for her phone, Josie's wrists resting on her shoulders, and answers the call.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?" Pen is somewhere that's so loud, Hope can just barely hear her through the static.

"Pen?" Hope pulls back and glances at the caller ID. She’s definitely not calling from her usual number. "Home. Why? And whose phone is this?"

"It's one from Expo. I'm actually leaning over the counter to talk to you. If I turned, how many people would be checking out my ass, you think?"

"Expo? Like the marker?"

"No, stupid, it's Expo as in Exposure."

"It's a pub," Josie says, feeding Hope information. "They have open mic nights and scheduled performances. Their beer sucks, I've heard."

"It does," Pen laments, though Hope and Josie both know she isn't drinking age and definitely shouldn't know how beer tastes at all, much less have her opinions on what qualifies as good beer. "Tastes like an Expo marker, actually. What a shame. Anyways, get down here!"

Hope presses her phone closer to her ear, trying to hear her friend's voice, and she ends up pinning Josie's wrist against her shoulder in the process. She doesn't seem to notice, so Hope decides to act like that small touch isn't making her heart beat faster. "Why?" Hope asks cautiously.

"Because it's open mic night and I am, believe it or not, a singer," Pen says, or, rather, shouts. "Come on. Bring Josie!"

"I don't think she really—"

"I love open mic nights, don't you dare uninvite me," Josie says, sounding genuinely offended. She pulls away entirely and Hope blinks at her. "I don't sing. I like listening. And I love the poetry nights, those are the best. Last year there was this girl—God, she had this great slam poem and—"

"Hope?" Pen calls down the line. Hope almost jumps, since she'd gotten a fair bit distracted by Josie's bright eyes. She wishes the taller girl would talk about things she loves more.

"Yeah, yeah, see you soon," she says quickly, hanging up on her friend before she can get a farewell in. "We didn't even study."

Josie waves it off. "We'll study later. I want to hear Pen perform."

Hope, sadly, bristles at that. She’s almost embarrassed at her own reaction. "Right, well… You'll enjoy it. She’s good. Really good. Surprised she hasn't gotten a deal yet, honestly. Well, she did last year, but she didn't take it because she didn't think she was ready."

Josie hums in consideration while Hope starts up her car again. "That's sad. I thought she wanted to be famous?"

"She does," Hope replies, shrugging a little. "She… She has a lot to consider before she does, though. Pen wants to get with an independent label. She doesn't want to get tied under some ridiculous contract with a major."

"That makes sense, I guess. She’s smart."

"My grade in English is higher than hers," Hope says, before she can think about how absolutely idiotic it is to say so.

"What do you want, a medal?" Josie says, all teasing and definitely making Hope blush.

"Yes," Hope mutters, just to be stubborn.

Josie's elbow shoves against hers where it rests on the center console. She doesn't think about that for any longer than she absolutely has to.


	16. Chapter 16

The thing is, Hope realizes, Pen is probably one of the best singers in their town, and definitely the best out of those participating in the open mic night. The place is dingy at best, and when Hope walks through the door she gets a wave of cheap (and apparently unpleasant-tasting) beer, greasy food, and sweat. Thankfully, Josie sits close enough to her that she mostly just gets to smell vanilla.

Pen blows everyone else out of the water. She jogs up to the stage as soon as Hope and Josie walk in, and she's cheered up to the stage later when there's a lack of takers. Most people in the pub seem content to listen to Pen's take on their popular requests.

"She’s so good," Josie says, so only Hope can hear. Maya’s sitting with her back turned to Hope, more or less, swaying back and forth to the Jason Mraz song Pen is, as anticipated, smashing. "I didn't know she was this good."

"I'm like a proud mom," Hope shares, after a few seconds.

Josie laughs and leans closer to her so she can hear her better. "I think that's Maya."

"That's called a WAG, Josie."

They share laughs, apparently so loudly that Maya finds it fit to turn in her seat and ask what's so funny. "Nothing," Hope calls back, over the chatter of the pub. She gestures back to the stage. "Enjoy the show."

Once Pen finishes off her cover of "I'm Yours" and once Hope's stopped cheering loudly enough to embarrass her best friend, Pen tells everyone she wants to sing something of her own. Only about half the people in the building give her a response, but none of them are negative. Of course.

"Everyone loves her," Hope mutters to Josie as she leans back in her seat, delighted for Pen.

"I'd guess it's hard to hate a sexy angel," Josie says back, meeting Hope's glare until her eyes scrunch up in this absolutely offensive full body laugh. She looks so happy that Hope can't even keep up her image of annoyance.

Pen sings well into the night. Everyone who leaves, as far as Hope can see, does so in a good mood. Pen is a stellar performer, sure, but she's always excelled at entertainment, too. She can drag smiles out of the most reluctant; pull helpless laughs from someone who hasn't grinned properly in weeks, maybe.

Hope watches Josie try to stifle yawns in her palm twice in ten minutes, but she waits a few moments before she suggests they leave, mostly because she feels warm and content and doesn't want the night to come to a close. Pen is glowing from the joy performing brings her; blossoming like a flower in spring under the attention of her audience. Maya looks like she'll burst from joy just by looking at the raven-haired girl, and Josie's tucked herself closer and closer to Hope as the hours passed.

"We should go," Hope says to Josie, once Pen hops off stage for good, shaking hands and accepting high-fives and claps on the back. There's a blush high on her cheeks, though it could be from exertion or all the attention she's getting from the pub's patrons.

"We don't have to," Josie says, and the look on her face is reminiscent of a toddler who's scared to sleep out of fear that they might miss something significant. Hope probably smiles at her softly for a moment too long, if Pen's sudden ambush on her is any sign.

"Did you see me?" Pen questions, tangling her limbs around Hope in what's probably supposed to be a hug. Hope really just feels like she's being elbowed in a million different places.

"No, I managed to miss that entire performance, believe it or not," Hope replies, without inflection.

Pen swats her over the head, throwing an arm over Maya’s shoulder while she points a disapproving finger at Hope, then at Josie. "You're more and more like her every day. Stop it. There's only room enough for one sarcastic person in this group."

"I'll tone it down so there's room for you," Josie conspiratorially whispers. "She’ll never know what hit her."

"Those who study together plot against sexy angels together," Hope says, quietly enough so only Josie can hear. The brunette laughs and leans closer into her space. Hope feels drunk, despite her refusal to touch alcohol.

Pen looks lost, but Maya just looks amused. Good. "We've gotta get going. Proud of you," Hope tacks on, giving Pen a genuine smile. "You did great."

"Apparently so," Pen agrees, depositing three napkins with phone numbers scrawled across them on the table. Maya doesn't have a reaction past simply raising an eyebrow, but Pen nudges her shoulder anyways. "Don't worry, I told them I have a girlfriend."

"Do you?" Hope and Maya ask in unison.

Hope shares a wide-eyed look with Josie, then looks at Pen, huffing out a shocked laugh. "Right, as I was saying, Josie and I have very important things to do."

"Like, leaving, for example," Josie contributes, shoving Hope's shoulder until she nearly falls out of the booth.

Hope barely manages to salute Pen and Maya as a goodbye before Josie is corralling her towards the door, clearly hoping for a hasty exit. As soon as they're out the door, she looks at Hope for five quiet seconds, then laughs at her for probably twenty. Hope takes it, pushing her hands into her front pockets while she waits for her to finish, biting back a smile of her own.

"What a swell job you did back there," she says wryly. "I didn't know Pen had that kind of death glare in her."

"She doesn't," Hope admits. "Usually she saves it for my particularly dumb moments."

"Like that one?"

"Like that one."

They fall quiet as they walk back to the car, and Hope has the kind of thoughts in her mind and feelings in her chest that make her want to stay out all night, just watching the night crowd around everything until it's encased in darkness. She wants to squint at the sky like she'll be able to see more than just a few stars, and she reclines in dewy grass even if she'll scratch at her skin for hours later.

Josie yawns again, and Hope draws her attention from the sky to stare at her profile. She's kind of, like, stupidly pretty if you ask Hope. She’s not sure what she's gotten herself into with this whole crush.

"I'm a little sleepy," she admits, chuckling to herself like she's embarrassed. "I go to sleep pretty early."

"I've heard that's good for you," Hope comments, but she wouldn't know. The only time she sleeps for more than 5 or 6 hours is when she's sick.

"So they say." She moves to open Josie's door for her, but she half-heartedly bats her hand off. "I got it. Idiot."

"How am I ever going to know when I'm actually being stupid if you just call me idiot no matter what I do?" Hope asks, while she rounds the car to get to the driver's seat.

"You'll know," Josie tells her. Her voice is slower, like she's thinking about every word before she actually says it. Hope pens it down as what must be her tired voice, and she kind of hopes she gets to hear it again because… well, Josie's cute, much to Hope’s dismay, and she's rubbing her eyes and yawning again. Hope feels like she's chauffeuring a sleepy kitten around. "I'll let you know that you're actually stupid."

"Thanks for that," Hope says, and it actually sounds genuine. Probably because she means it. And as much as she's grown up spiting every person that dared call her stupid, it's okay when Josie says so. Probably because she's never directed the word at her with malice or disappointment—not like so many of her teachers have; not like her step dad did.

"You probably won't actually be stupid, though," she adds, once Hope's maneuvered her way out of the cramped parking lot and turned onto the main road. "So don't worry about it."

She can't think of anything witty or acceptable as a reply, so she doesn't answer at all. The rest of the ride is quiet, save for Josie's muttered directions to her mom's house.

She gets her home just after 10 PM, and she refuses to let Hope walk her to the door. "It's cold," she says by way of explanation. Hope frowns at her. She’d only be out there for a few minutes at most, and it won't kill her in the slightest. She says as much. "You really, really don't have to."

Hope almost wants to get offended, because she can see a light on in what must be the kitchen, and she has a feeling that car outside belongs to her mom. She doesn't feel right making Josie walk up the short path alone. Hayley didn't raise her this way. "Do you not want me to meet your mom?" Hope questions, after a few seconds.

"It's not that," Josie denies quickly, sending a furtive glance at the house. It's white; pristine. It's clearly an upper-scale home. There's little blue curtains that frame the inside of every window, a nice contrast to the dark shutters outside, and there's two flower pots just outside the door. She’s not sure why Josie's refusing her.

"Okay," she says slowly, sliding her hand off the door handle. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Josie replies just as slowly, laughing like Hope's being ridiculous. "I'll see you tomorrow. And you don't have to pick me up; Maya lives a few houses down."

"Okay." Hope wants to say goodnight properly, with a hug and a wish of sweet dreams or something, but Josie pushes her door open and climbs out before she can even muster up the words. "I'll see you."

She leans down and smiles tightly, giving Hope a wave before she shuts the door. Hope stares after her with some combination of confusion, interest, and adoration, probably.

Not one to disrespect someone's wishes, Hope stays in her car. She doesn't pull away until Josie closes the front door behind herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just little fluff for now :) thought this whole story is fluff.


	17. Chapter 17

Three weeks later, and Hope would be lying if she said she wasn't one of the shoddiest best friends ever.

She and Pen had both been busy; Pen picking up more gigs than she was used to, since her takeover of open mic night at the bar, and she was still trying to answer the essential question—how much time is too much time with Maya? Pen had confessed to Hope that she'd never been all that talented at balancing her relationships, offering up a sheepish apology, but Hope understood.

She understood really well, actually, considering that her moments spent without Josie by her side had been few and far in between for the past month. Josie didn't seem opposed, but she's pretty sure she made up faulty lies some nights to give Hope space, like she thinks she's a bother. Hope thinks Josie's just as pretty as she is ridiculous.

Which—that's more of a thing now, too, Hope guesses. She’s always considered Josie pretty (and, if you ask her, it's hard not to consider her pretty), but lately that thought battles its way to the forefront of her mind every time the brunette bites the end of her pencil, or laughs at Hope when she says something stupid. Hope thinks it's probably embarrassing how good Josie has her.

It's also obvious according to a unanimous vote of their lunch table (minus Josie, of course, she'd run off to get something out of her locker as Pen breached the topic against Hope's insistence). It's a wonder Josie doesn't know, Kaleb had said wryly, the group having a laugh at Hope's expense. Of course she knows, Pen had scoffed, she's just nice enough not to embarrass Hope by telling her she knows.

Hope doesn't think that's true for a few reasons. The first being, Josie never misses an opportunity to embarrass Hope a little, and the second being, Josie would probably run away screaming if she had any clue. Or, at least, that's what Hope thinks. When she had said so at the lunch table, everyone had rolled their eyes at her, coupled with quite a few unkind _shut of the fuck up_ s and some particular invectives Hope's not so sure she wants to repeat. But, that's what friends are for, she supposes.

Her crush might have even waned a little, if Josie weren't so happy to spend Saturdays pretending to do their weekend homework while they binge-watch reality television—well, to be fair, most of the time it's just Josie pointing out all the faults while Hope complains that she's ruining her fun, but her point is, she might have been able to shake the damned, suffocating thing once and for all, if Josie didn't do half the things that she insists on doing. Like helping Hope’s mom organize her cooking space as she frantically prepares cupcakes for the community bake sale, or swiping frosting down the side of Hope’s face when she steps foot into the kitchen. Things would be a lot easier if Josie didn't keep touching her upper arm, which Hope very quickly decided was her favorite place to be touched. Things would be a lot easier if she didn't catch Josie looking at her sometimes, and maybe a little easier if she didn't catch Hope staring every five minutes.

That all happens, though, and Josie graces her with multiple hugs some days, and Hope feels like she's living some of the best moments of her life. Even if she and Josie never work out—even if the crush is just as unrequited as she thinks it is—she'll still look back on homework sessions with the brunette fondly and wistfully. Probably even add a little those were the days, man, to the end of her reminiscences.

But, the real point is, Pen's birthday snuck up on her. Hope knew it was November, and she knew Pen's birthday was on the eighteenth, but she never really thought about how close or far away that was until she glanced at the date on the board and saw a "November 17th" glaring back at him.

The first person she goes to is Maya.

"So," she says, like she shows up to Maya and Pen's shared locker between second and third period every day. "Have you thought about Pen's birthday?"

"Yes," Maya says, slowly. "Have you?"

Hope nods, because yes, actually, she's been thinking about it for the past half hour. "I was just thinking we were all going to do something. Has she mentioned anything?"

"She said she wanted something normal, if there was any party at all. Like, I think she wants just the gang? Something small." Maya shrugs, being ultimately less helpful than Hope hoped she would be.

"But it's her eighteenth. Don't most people want something, like, huge?"

"You know Pen," Maya says, lifting one shoulder with a small, sickening smile. "She only needs two things: her friends and her music."

"And you," Hope adds, making Maya beam. She returns the grin briefly, but clears her throat after a second. "So, like, something small? And with music?"

"I guess. She hasn't really said much; I think she doesn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"Make a big deal out of what?" Pen questions, approaching them as she sidesteps a flock of freshman.

Hope forces herself to reply casually, without sounding guilty. "Nothing."

Pen glances between them, shrugging in the end to show she's unbothered. She reaches past Maya into the locker she's holding open, pulling out a red binder. "Hey, you."

Kay accepts her greeting kiss, reaching up to hold Pen's face in her hands—disgustingly tender, really. Hope's heart swells up to a surely unnatural size; proud and happy and warm at the sight of them. "I'm a minor! Keep it PG-13!"

"Please," Pen snorts. "You and Josie are worse than this, and you haven't even kissed."

"How could we possibly be worse?"

"Unresolved romantic tension," Maya and Pen say in unison, sharing a look. "We've discussed this," Pen continues nonchalantly. "Like, at first it was cute, and now it's come to the point where we're starting to place bets on when it happens."

 _It_. Hope feels nauseous just at the implication of the all-encompassing it, which probably includes kissing Josie for an extended period of time, and maybe getting to hold her closer than she usually gets to. Hope doesn't even try thinking about having the privilege of holding her hand, since she doesn't feel like fainting in the hallway. Josie's certainly not for the weak-hearted, she's learned.

"I'll see you guys at lunch," Hope mumbles, though Pen and Maya are already surfing another topic and give her cheery goodbyes. They bring out the best in each other, Hope thinks; Pen's smiles have been more frequent than they've ever been besides that time she got a new skateboard in middle school, and Maya;s been a little less rough around the edges, softening up like she can't help herself.

Hope likes to think that she and Josie do the same for one another, but the truth of the matter is, Josie's probably become more sarcastic since she and Hope started doing whatever they're doing, and Hope's just become more embarrassing.

And, speaking of Josie, Hope's going to have to ask for her guidance on some last minute birthday celebration planning, since she's the worst friend ever. Who forgets their best friend's eighteenth birthday anyways? Horrible people, that's who.

She catches the taller girl just after the lunch bell rings, having skipped out on the last few minutes of her marine science class, after telling a not-white-lie about having to go to the front office to speak to someone. Josie helps out in the office second and third period, since she hadn't needed another science and finished off her foreign language before senior year, and it's not the first time Hope's said she needs to go to the office when she really just wants to see Josie.

She latches onto her arm before she can get too far down the hallway, and Hope selfishly doesn't let go, even after the brunette’s turned to her with vague surprise in her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she says, after a pronounced moment.

She smiles, but waits a bit before she speaks. "I didn't think it was anyone else. I can't say that many people tend to grab my arm where you do."

"I—sorry," she sputters, dropping her hand. God, she's an idiot. Josie's teasing name-calling has more truth to it than she thinks.

She shrugs. "Nothing to be sorry for. Did you need something?"

"I—yes, actually, I'm a horrible friend and I deserve to go to best friend hell," Hope says, all in one breath. Josie's watching her intently, like what she's saying is actually interesting, and there just aren't many people that look at her that way. Hope wants to kiss her.

"Best friend hell?" She raises one eyebrow, pressing her lips together to quell a smile. Hope wants to kiss her badly, it seems.

"Yes," she says, and it's too slow. Her thoughts tend to turn to molasses when Josie's near, lately. "Yes. I forgot Pen's birthday is tomorrow."

Her eyes brighten, and she hitches her backpack further up her shoulder. "Is it? How old is she? Nineteen?"

"Eighteen," Hope corrects. "But I have no clue what to do. Maya says she just wants something small? Just the group."

"Why not just a get together at someone's house?" Josie suggests. "Like a movie night?"

"We did that for Halloween, though; the guys did, anyways. I know you were trick-or-treating with your cousins, and Maya with her little brothers and sister. I mean, eighteen is a big deal; I want it to be cool. For her."

Josie nods, then cocks her head to the side. She reaches out and taps her knuckles against her collar bone. Hope grips onto her backpack strap tighter than she ever has to keep herself from reaching up and catching her hand. "I like your shirt. And I think you should just ask yourself what Pen likes best. I think she'll appreciate whatever you come up with, Hope."

Her mind's still reeling a little from Josie's touch—even through fabric, honestly, but the small gesture was so natural and comfortable that her stomach is turning pleasantly. Hope is so, so here for casual touches from Josie. "You think?"

"I know," she amends. "Just think. Pen likes us. Maya, too."

"I think she more than 'likes' Maya," Hope comments idly, and Josie hums her agreement before she makes a vague hand motion as if to say 'what else?' "Uh, music. Obviously. Hair dye. Piercings. Cigarettes, sometimes?"

"Well, at least she can legally buy them now," Josie replies. "We could sign her up for another open mic night."

Hope nods immediately, but then she grimaces. "No, she wants something small. Pen’s birthdays are always pretty…"

"Intimate?" Josie guesses. "Yeah, she seems like that kind of person." She rests one shoulder against the nearest wall while she thinks, looking at the faded out blue paint. Hope likes a lot of things about Josie, but her thinking face is top twenty, for sure. "Oh!" Josie exclaims, expression lighting up. "A bonfire!"

"A… bonfire," Hope repeats in awe. She can see it now; dragging her and her mom's old firepit out of the shed in their backyard, asking everyone to chip in with a few lawn chairs, Pen sitting and playing guitar while the whole gang listens in, conversations carrying on here and there. "She’d love that. She’s going to love that so much."

Josie beams, nodding excitedly. "I hope so; it'll be so fun. How are we going to let everyone know without Pen overhearing?"

Hope leans against the wall, facing Josie and crossing her arms. "I mean, we're already late to lunch," he says. The tardy bell rings overheard just to prove his claim. "She’s definitely already there."

"We could text everyone?" Josie proposes. "My phone's off, though, we'll have to use yours."

"You actually turn your phone off during school?" Hope questions. Josie's such a stickler for the rules, it's impressive sometimes.

"I don't want my phone to ring in class. Like yours did six times in Chemistry."

"Was it really six?" Hope makes a little face as plucks her phone out of her pocket, but before she can get to work on drafting a text, Josie pulls it from her grasp, entering in her password and humming to herself and she navigates to Hope’s messages. "Wha—how do you do that?"

"What, know your password to everything?" Josie glances at her, a smile in her eyes that doesn't make its way to her lips. "You're very predictable, Hope. Almost all of them are either your birth year, your graduation year, or your mom's birthday. Or 'wolfgirl'," she says, with humor.

"I bet all of your passwords are really complicated and impossible to remember," she grumbles.

"They're all some combination of the last four numbers of my Social Security number, my last name, or the name of what was my favorite song when I started needing passwords."

"The song being?"

"None of your business, that's what," Josie shoots back, but Hope can tell that she's not telling her solely for the purpose of not telling her, and hardly because she wants it to remain a secret. "There. Everyone's all texted and good to go."

"Where would I be without you?" Hope asks, albeit rhetorically. The corner of Josie's lips turn up when she lifts the shoulder that isn't pressed up against the wall. Hope's eyes catch on her lips—reddened from her bad habit of biting them—and he thinks that, if she had enough confidence, liking Josie would be easy. Josie probably likes people that give off that composed vibe like she has; like they know exactly where they're going and what they're doing and why they're doing it. She probably likes people that have initiative, and it sucks that Hope can't be that person, really. It's not the first time that she wishes she had played football instead of soccer, or dressed cooler than she does. She’s still wearing the shoes she's had since the beginning of junior year, still wearing clothes she's had for years, still continuing on with her lame people skills and frankly awful attempts at being charming.

"Come on," she says, tipping her head in the direction of the cafeteria. "We should go."

Hope would probably stand there in the hallway forever, sneaking covert glances at Josie's lips and hands and collarbones, but, logically, that isn't the best course of action. She falls into step beside her, and there's probably not enough space between them, if their bumping hands are anything to go by.

Eventually, Hope just pushes her hand into her pocket. Better safe than thoroughly embarrassed, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a longer but it's the bonfire chapter ;) Hope you like it!

It doesn't take Hope long to realize that organizing a bonfire is much easier in theory. For one, she has to talk MG into coming over early so that he can help her move the fire pit, and she has to beg the rest of them to bring whatever snacks they can sacrifice. Apparently, Her mom has shopping planned for tomorrow,  _ sorry, sweetheart _ . Whatever, honestly, Hope can still pull this off. One hundred per cent.

Kaleb, who truly is an angel in disguise as far as Hope's concerned, arrives with four lawn chairs, six bags of chips, and two packs of canned sodas. Hope could kiss him if it weren't for the whole Josie thing. The thing that actually isn't a thing, but still feels like a thing, and might never be a thing, but Hope will always consider a thing. Yes, that.

Raf arrives with nothing in hand besides a lighter, and Hope supposes that's something she should have thought about earlier. Thankfully, her mom remembers how to even light a fire in the pit, and Raf is all too eager as a student. He happily accepts his position as "fire maintainer"—MG's words, not hers—and fidgets with the fire iron while Hope rushes around, pushing chairs into place and moaning about how much she hates being a procrastinator.

Her friends are probably the best people in the world, though, because every time she passes by Jed her gives her an encouraging smile, and MG always claps her on the back like he's saying job well done, and even Alyssa looks like she's proud of her, even if she's gained the nickname of 'Ice Queen' from MG.

At long last, about a quarter until 8 o'clock, Hope sinks down onto the grass and stares at their little set up. There's an old folding table they pulled out of Hope's garage—the one her mom uses during community yard sales—and an array of chairs in some vaguely circular shape around the fire pit. There's a small stack of gifts on the table, mostly just little things because Pen won't accept anything that costs over twenty dollars, and there's enough snacks to last them all night. Probably.

She leans back on her hands and glances around curiously, trying to see if she's forgotten anything. Lizzie’s's dialing Maya off to her left, letting her know that they're all set up and it's time to bring Pen over, MG's jogging towards Hope's house with an insane amount of energy, Kaleb and Jed are giving their best attempt at organizing the pile of snacks, and Raf's poking at the fire with fascination on his face.

Hope pauses, doing a quick headcount. She’s just reaching into her pocket to call Josie and demand she arrive immediately, but two soft hands cover her eyes before she can get that far. "I'm not going to make you guess; this is Josie," she announces, after a moment.

Hope smiles widely enough to make the blazing fire look dim, probably, but she manages to compose herself before she turns and tackles Josie into a hug that's really just a thinly-veiled excuse to be closer to her. She just barely keeps them from hitting the ground hard, catching them both on her elbow. "You're like an overexcited dog," Josie says flatly, but she seems pretty unperturbed for someone who probably has a rock or two digging into her elbow.

Hope smiles and holds on tight to her upper arm. "I reckon a dog would have licked your face by now," she mentions, somehow managing to roll over and sit up casually beside Josie like she's actually smooth and graceful. Hope glances down at her body in something like awe; she'd been expecting at least one injury in extracting herself from Josie.

"Please don't lick my face," Josie says pleasantly, and Hope laughs to herself while the brunette takes a look around. "This pulled together nicely."

"You're here so late," Hope complains, even if the get together hasn't even officially started.

She rolls her eyes. "Looks like you managed just fine, you needy, needy child."

"They'll be here any minute!" Lizzie calls out, mostly to Hope and Josie, since they're the only ones a dozen feet away from the rest of the group.

They both call back okays, and Josie turns to look at her with a gentle smile on her face. Hope thinks she was totally fine before Josie came along, just a leaf riding the light and simple breeze, and now she's been robbed of all the oxygen around her, falling towards the ground too fast to even get her bearings. In some ways, she's kind of enjoying the panic of it all.

"We should join them," Josie says after a few seconds, but she's still reclining back on her elbows like they've got all the time in the world. Her hair's down and she looks so relaxed, so comfortable, that Hope just wants to pull her against her chest and not let go for a while.

"We should," Hope agrees, shifting until her arm is pressed up against hers. "We will in a second," she amends. Josie gives her a curious look, one that skitters all around her face like she can't decide where to settle. "Just want it to be us, for a minute."

She definitely sounds like an idiot, and Josie's definitely calling her that in her head, but she just gives her a small, pleased smile. Hope thinks she's said the right thing.

"I'm—" Josie cuts herself off, like she's still trying to figure out what she wants to say, and Hope waits patiently. She knows what it's like to have trouble putting how you feel or what you're thinking into words, and she can tell that Josie's trying to say something important. The least she can do is give her some time to compose herself. "I'm glad y—I mean, all of us—started talking again. I think we're good together. All of us."

"I agree, all of us," Hope says, a slow smile spreading on her face. "Think we're really good, all of us."

"I'll knock you flat on your back," Josie threatens, and Hope almost tells her that she already has, really. The brunette glances away from the fire, where she'd pinned her gaze, and scans her face again. Hope feels herself warm under her gaze, but she knows she's not blushing, and even if she were it wouldn't matter. The fire light's a good mask. "Ready to go?"

She nods, slowly, but she'd be content sitting there the whole night with Josie, blades of grass leaving little shallow impressions on her skin. Josie stands, helps her up, and holds her hand for what Hope dares to deem a second too long.

"Dammit," Jed mutters, as soon as they approach the table. Almost in unison, he and MG reach into their back pockets and begrudgingly hand Alyssa and Lizzie five dollar bills.

"Do I even want to know?" Josie asks, raising an eyebrow as she reaches for a red, plastic cup. Hope opens two cans of Coke while Josie writes her name on her cup, then Hope's on another. She trades Josie a red can for her assigned cup, sending her a quick smile in thanks. She returns it. Hope almost drops her cup in the process, but thankfully her subconscious has her back.

"You don't," Lizzie says quickly, before anyone else can get a word in edgewise. "Just boys, placing and losing bets."

Before Hope can even ask, because she does want to know, actually, Pen steps out of Hope's sliding glass door with a huge grin on her face, Maya not a moment behind her.

"Guys," the raven haired girl says with a crushing amount of gratefulness. She bites her bottom lip to reign in her smile.

"This thing is heavy," Maya complains, passing the guitar off to Pen, and she drops a quick kiss to her lips in thanks. She seems much less disgruntled after that.

"Happy birthday," Hope says as Pen pulls her into a one-armed hug. "You're so old."

"Shut up," she replies with a laugh, shoving her best friend's shoulder without much force. "Thank you so much. It really… This means so much to me. I want you to know that."

"Stop before I start crying," Hope tells her, only half-kidding. Pen squeezes her shoulder before she leans over to hug Josie, saying something that Hope can't hear and making her laugh.

Hope isn't all that proud of the jealousy that makes her chest burn for a few seconds, but she's relieved when Pen moves down the line to give MG a hug. Maya drags Hope into a conversation she's having with Kaleb, and much to her dismay, Josie slowly moves away until she's immersed in some heated discussion with Alyssa and MG.

"She wouldn't stop asking questions the whole drive here," Maya says, like she's actually bothered by Pen talking her ear off. "Honestly, it was like an endless stream of 'where are you taking me?' and 'look at that car, isn't that a nice car?' and 'I'm so bored, are we there yet?'"

Hope smiles at that, downing a sip of her Coke and making a face when an ice cube hits her teeth. Before she can even comment on what Maya said, Pen herself materializes by her side, giving Jed an amused nod. "Heard you lost a bet."

"What was that about anyways?" Hope asks, fidgeting with her drink. Jed shrinks in on himself a little while he sends Pen an outraged look, taking a long sip out of his cup. Pen and Maya laugh. Hope feels like she's missing something.

"Don't throw me under the bus," Jed says, which only makes Pen chuckle more. "We've all been doing it."

"Been doing what?" Hope presses, and she's not sure if her palms are clammy from the condensation of her drink or her own nerves. She’s pretty sure she already knows the answer, thinking of Pen and Maya’s teasing at their locker, but she can't stop herself from asking all the same.

The three of them share a look, and Maya’s the first to turn back to her. "Placing bets on certain…Romantic advancements. Between you and another person."

Hope just nods and probably blushes, if her suddenly overheated state is anything to go by. "Right. I figured."

"I'm angry that I lost five bucks because you don't have the guts to kiss her," Jed grumbles, clearly still bitter over his loss.

Hope shrugs. "Should have made a smarter bet, I guess."

"You'd be a horrible gambler," Josie says, and Hope nearly spills her drink when she jolts at the sound of her voice. "Too much emotion on your face."

"You're telling me," Jed says lowly, and Hope very much wants to toss her drink down Jed's shirt.

"And speaking of presents," Maya announces suddenly, like someone actually mentioned gifts just a minute prior, "I believe Penelope has a few of those."

Hope feels her own eyes widen. She’s heard a grand total of two people call Pen "Penelope", the first being their principal, who had been hastily corrected, and the second being Pen’s mother, who wasn't corrected, but rather sent a sideways, irritated glance. Pen never lets people get away with saying her first name, not unless they truly don't know better.

Much to her bewilderment, Pen just gives Maya a kind smile and lets her lead her by the hand to the table. Hope blinks after them, but no one else picks up on the significance like she does.

Josie taps her upper arm, concern written all over her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Hope says slowly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just tensed up, is all," Josie replies with a shrug.

"I—It's weird. Pen never lets people call her by her first name. She doesn't even let me call her by his first name."

Josie glances over at the pair of them, Maya offering Pen a nondescript box from the present pile and Pen staring at her like she's the real gift, in this situation. "They're different with each other, you know."

"That's what happens when you're in love," Hope responds, feeling herself smile a little. She’s always thought that Pen could use someone; someone who's long-term, someone who'll be a home away from home, someone who she'll be able to look out for. "Probably," she tacks on, after a second.

"Probably," Josie agrees, edging towards the fire. Hope watches her go; watches her take a seat on the grass, crossing her ankles one over the other, regardless of the fact that there's six perfectly good chairs sitting around the fire. If it were anyone else besides Josie, Hope would probably opt for sitting in one of the donated chairs—better on her back and far less uncomfortable—but, much to her back's dismay, it is Josie, and Hope doesn't hesitate before she settles down beside her.

"You put the chairs too far from the fire," she mentions idly.

"Maybe if you would have gotten here on time, you could have pointed that out before the party started." Hope adds a little more attitude than she usually would, just because she knows it'll make one corner of Josie's lips turn up. And it does, just as she forecasted, but it comes coupled with a shoulder nudge and a brushing of fingertips. It's like the newscaster telling you it'll be overcast all weekend, only to see sunny, cloudless skies.

Thanks to Hope's mind lingering on the weather, she notices Josie shiver as she shifts her hands—disappointingly and perhaps deliberately out of her reach. She opens her mouth to ask her if she brought a jacket but left it in her car, but Josie gives her a warning look like she knows what Hope’s about to say. "Pipe down, hero. I'm just a little cold. I'll let you know if I spontaneously begin to freeze."

Hope scowls at her. "I was just going to offer to get you a jacket."

Josie rolls her eyes, but Hope knows her well enough to see that she's hardly annoyed, if she is at all. "I'm fine. The whole point of a fire is warmth."

"Just… let me know. If you need anything."

"Got it, Mom," Josie mutters, tipping her head back to look at the sky. Hope looks away, since that's probably more intelligent than wasting half her life watching Josie look at things that aren't her.

Pen ambles over to them, sitting criss-cross and stretching out his arms. "Look at my jacket," she says happily.

It's exactly the kind of jacket a person like Pen should wear; black leather with what looks like a couple diamond-shaped studs up on her shoulders. "I don't believe that cost under twenty dollars," Hope comments, giving Pen a smug look. "Was this yet another exception to the rule for Maya?"

"Rules don't apply to her," Pen says, and she almost sounds offended. "She's special."

"God," Hope says, dropping her head back in exasperation. "Why are you confessing your love to me? Go to her, young grasshopper."

Josie seems to get endless amusement out of that, laughing like Hope's only seen a few times; eyes crinkling at the corners and fascinating little dents appearing in her cheeks. Hope, and far, far from the first time, thinks she'd like to kiss her.

Pen looks almost uncomfortable, which Hope has to admit is a new expression on her best friend's face—or, at least, she's never been exposed to it. "I'm going to leave now," Pen proclaims, standing up and coolly straightening out her new jacket before she plucks her guitar up out of a nearby chair and takes the one closest to the refreshments table. It's not long before Hope hears Pen start up a song she's been working on here and there; something Hope's heard in little fragments as she called Pen to catch up, or when she visited a few nights ago to help Pen finish writing the lyrics.

Hope's pretty sure that she'll hate herself for it later, but she lies flat on her back and uses one arm as a makeshift pillow. Her skin is going to itch from the grass and her hair's going to have questionable signs of nature in it, but it's worth it to get to close her eyes and hear Pen play—one of the few things that can quiet Hope's constantly whirring mind entirely.

She can hear conversations going on, the indistinguishable chatter with laughs and outraged cries here and there, but it's just as much music to her ears as Pen’s playing is. Hope hums along to the song once she catches on at the chorus, and it isn't until a hand rests over her arm that Hope remembers Josie's beside ger at all.

"You look peaceful," she comments, and Hope kind of wants to point out that she just interrupted said peace, but she supposes the girl’s worth it. She squeezes her arm, the one that's half-pinned beneath her head and now half-pinned beneath her hand. For whatever reason, Hope's involuntary reaction is to flex.

Now, years and years from now, Hope's sure she'll be sitting around in her living room with her mother by her side and a few kids running around wreaking havoc while her wife tries to tame them, and she'll be able to laugh about this moment. But for now, Hope gives an internal, minute-long groan that hopefully expresses to her subconscious how much of a piece of shit it is.

"Did you just—?"

"I wasn't—"

Josie laughs before Hope can even finish her explanation, but she doesn't move her hand either. Hope can't tell if she's winning or losing, here. "You just flexed. Didn't you?"

"It was a reflex," she says meekly.

"Was it now?" Josie sends her a look, and Hope can't think of any interpretation other than, plainly, I'm flirting with you.

Which, honestly, couldn't Josie have picked a time where she'd just done something really cool? Like successfully performing a skateboard trick of high difficulty, or winning some medal at a soccer tournament. That would have been a little easier to swallow, and she doubts she would be blushing half as much as she is now. Maybe if she closes his eyes, it'll just go away.

"Don't be embarrassed," Josie says, and she runs her hand up her arm until she's gripping her elbow. Hope's pretty sure her facial expression reads pain pain deep and terrible pain. "It was a nice reflex, if that helps."

"It doesn't," Hope says, or, rather, squeaks. She keeps her eyes shut tightly, tries to convince her blood vessels in her face really don't have to do that whole dilating thing she learned about last year in health. They could just, like, not respond to Josie's touch at all, since that would make Hope's like a good fifty per cent easier.

Instead of leaving Hope alone and letting her wallow in her shame that'll probably make her blush for decades to come, Josie lies down beside her. Hope could cry. "I didn't mean to embarrass you; it was just funny."

"Thanks," Hope mutters, wanting to drop the topic altogether. "Just not all that into making myself look stupid."

"You didn't look stupid," Josie admonishes. "Don't think of yourself that way. I'd even go as far as to compliment your wonderful, wonderful athletic build."

She says it with just enough sarcasm that Hope could either take it literally, or assume she's messing with her. She doesn't know what route to follow, so she just paves a new way and doesn't say anything.

"I think you should hum along again," Josie says, a little while later. "That was nice, too."

This time it's genuine, but Hope can't bring herself to do anything even the slightest bit risky out of fear that she'll ruin whatever small chance he has once and for all.

It's been a while since she's liked someone how she likes Josie. She feels like she's falling more in love every time she exists near the tall girl, and that it in itself would be enough to send Josie running in the opposite direction. She;s never wanted to be close to someone like she wants to be with her—and, sure, she's only human, so she's had her fair share of daydreams about getting more physical with her, but what she really wants is to know what's going on in her head. Hope wants to hear all of the stories she's gone so long without mentioning, she's forgotten how to tell them. She wants to know what her thoughts are on anything and everything; wants the brunette to tell her all that she wants, because God knows she'd sit there hanging onto every word.

But that's selfish—isn't it? Josie's been giving and giving lately, telling her things she visibly struggled with, offering up information that Hope never explicitly asked for. She's told her all about her living situation, let her meet her dad in a house she was clearly (and unnecessarily) embarrassed by. And all Hope's given her is meeting her mother.

"Sorry," Josie blurts into the silence. "I didn't…"

Hope laughs now, because she's never apologized to her for a single crass remark; not a single punch to the shoulder or cruel laugh at her expense, but she apologizes for Hope’s own embarrassment over a stupid, knee-jerk reaction. She wants to kiss her for being so ridiculous, but everything Josie does makes Hope want to kiss her. "It's fine," Hope says, half-groaning, switching out her arms to keep the one from falling asleep. She blindly presses the knuckles of her newly-freed hand against the other girl’s shoulder, and Josie reaches up to shift her hand downward until she's closer to their spot.

Hope wants to turn and look at her more than anything but she's not so sure if she trusts herself right now. Josie's kind of stupidly alluring to her, and she wouldn't put it beneath her impulsive nature to plant one on her. "I've never met my dad," Hope admits after a while.

She can almost hear Josie's sudden interest, and it would make her nervous if she weren't so used to Josie actually caring about what she has to say. "Yeah?"

"Yep," Hope says, popping the 'p'. "I've heard he was a nice guy, though; really loved my mom and all, just. Couldn't stay. One of those things. Mom always says I look just like him, and that makes me feel guilty because she has to see me every day and she hasn't seen him for about eighteen years. You know."

"I don't know," Josie responds. "But I'm glad you're telling me."

Hope nods, but she's not even sure if she's looking Hope’s way to see it. "I don't really have much to tell about him. I think he might have been around for a little bit while I was a baby, but Mom never really told me the specifics. I never asked."

"Was it…" Josie pauses, like she isn't sure whether or not she's allowed to ask a question. Hope presses her knuckles more firmly against her arm before she removes them entirely, instead resting her hand over her stomach. "What was it like growing up without a dad?"

"I didn't really know anything different, so it was never really a problem for me. Mom was always a great parent, and it's not like I was super rebellious, so discipline wasn't much of a problem. I think my mom is just so good that you feel guilty doing anything bad, so you just never do it at all. Pretty good parenting tactic if you ask me."

"But it didn't affect you?" Josie presses. "At all?"

Hope mulls over that for a second. "I'm sure it did," she starts, hesitantly, "but my mom's proud of me now, so whatever it was didn't change me too much, I guess. I mean, it was a little weird sometimes to talk to friends, and have them ask about my dad, but there were tons of other kids who only had one parent too. I wasn't alone, or outcasted or anything. Not for that reason, anyways."

"But you were outcasted?"

Hope opens her eyes and turns to her. Josie's looking back, and she decides it's time to sit up before she does something reckless. Stretching her back with a sigh, she tries to continue as casually as possible, brushing blades of grass off her shirt. "Yeah, I guess. No more than any other kid, though. Dyslexia made me look stupid. I cried a lot when I was younger, but I got over that. Just general name-calling, nothing too intense."

"I'm sorry," Josie says earnestly; stricken. "If I had any clue, I wouldn't, like, call you 'idiot' and 'stupid' all the time. I never considered the fact that that would be a sore spot."

"It's not," Hope rushes out, reaching out a hand that just kind of floats mid-air, and hopefully communicates some variation of it's totally cool, don't worry. "I like when you call me names. Well, I mean, that sounded weird, but I meant that I don't mind it. It doesn't kill me, or anything, because I know you don't mean it. And even if you did mean it, I… I don't know. Please stop me any time, here."

Josie lets out a laugh, one that sounds more like a giggle, and Hope smiles at the sound. "You may stop," she allows, sighing as she sits up beside her, criss-cross. "Do you ever wonder about him?"

"My dad?" Hope asks, even if she knows that's who she's talking about. She glances at her worn-out Converse, noting the fact that they're untied. "I mean, sometimes. But it's not like I need more than what I have; Mom's a good provider. I don't have any, like, buried 'what if' feelings about him."

"So he's just not in your life? Simple as that?"

Hope shrugs, reaching forward until she can tie her shoe. She doesn't even want to know how long she's been in danger of tripping. "I just never had much of a reason to wonder about him. Like, I think I would have to feel like I was missing something to actually be curious about him, but I've never… I've always felt like I have everything I need. So it wasn't really a question."

"I can't believe people like you are real," Josie tells her incredulously. When she looks at her, there's something curious and awed in her gaze. "I probably would have already tried to find him twenty times."

"Maybe one day, I'll look," Hope decides, though she's not sure if she really wants to know. She likes her life; likes the small little houses and apartments she and her mom have always shared, likes their little corner of the world. She doesn't want to bring unrest by wondering about a man who, for whatever reason, wasn't able to stay in either of their lives. "I'm good for now, though."

"You're a good person, Hope." Josie sounds incredibly earnest, like it's the truest thing she's ever told her, and Hope likes the thought of that.

"Thanks," she answers, sparing her a glance, and she thinks it's probably too soft. The fire pops loudly, and Hope looks away. "We should go hang out with them. We're being antisocial."

"We're talking to each other," Josie points out, but she doesn't argue when Hope stands, knowing better than to try and help her up.

He makes it a point to talk to Pen more for the next few hours, since it is her birthday and she should be getting the vast majority of Hope's attention. Josie doesn't always join in on their conversations, but she does smile in passing or steal Pen away for a few moments to ask her about her music.

The energy in the air reminds her of the county fair, in a way, and it's weird to think that just a few months ago she and Josie were basically strangers who hadn't spoken in over a year. And it's strange to think that she wasn't close with Lizzie or MG or Kaleb or Maya; that she didn't have this huge group of friends who she trusted implicitly, ones who trusted her back, ones who would be there anytime of any day if Hope made the call. Hope's not even sure how she got by without the support group that she has now.

Pen is playing a song Hope helped her write. She’s singing it far too loudly for the quiet night, and the fire's crackling like it doesn't know what to do with the buzz in the air. Hope knows the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many of you thought they were gonna kiss this chapter?? I feel kinda bad but don't worry it'll happen soon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To save you from tonights episode

Hope shuts her locker only to come face-to-face with Josie. She’s just as much frightened as she is pleased. "Good morning," she greets, cautiously.

"I have a complaint," Josie announces without preamble.

"Let me go get my manager," Hope says, meaning to be funny but really just coming off as confused.

She gets an eye roll for her trouble. "I have a student council meeting after school, and there's reportedly no refreshments, nor is there an end time."

"That sounds… awful," Hope admits, feeling very, very glad that she isn't one of those people who went out for student council. "Your life sucks, doesn't it?"

Josie narrows her eyes at Hope. "I have a second complaint." The shorter girl gestures as if to say be my guest. It's not like she has a choice in the matter; Josie'll tell her whether she wants to know or not—which, obviously, she does. The sad truth is that she'd listen to Josie read selected passages out of her math textbook aloud. "You're not nice. And, as vice president of the student council, I request your attendance at this meeting."

Hope blinks at her. "I'm not going to that meeting."

"You'd go against the wishes of the student council?"

"They don't have any real power," Hope challenges, crossing her arms, but Josie looks disappointed enough to make her feel guilty. "What if I have other plans?"

Some emotion flickers across Josie's face, and if Hope could place any bets, she'd say it was disquietude. "Do you?" she questions slowly, like she might not want the answer.

And Hope could lie; she could just as easily say that she has a movie night with her mom planned, even if her mom won't get home from work until midnight. She could tell Josie that she promised Pen she'd help out with a song, or she could say she's meeting someone else. Hope's never been all that gifted at lying herself, but lying to Josie would probably be a disaster. "I don't," she admits, and she reads relief on the brunette’s face; sees it in the way her shoulders relax. She’d very much like to talk about that, but before she can, Josie tugs on her upper arm and walks her forwards a few steps.

"Well, the meeting starts now, so we better get a move on," Josie informs her, dropping her arm. "We're already late."

They navigate their way to one of the few conference halls around the front office, and Josie doesn't even apologize as she enters late, Hope trailing behind her. She’s never actually been back here; only passed the doors on her way to the principal's office a few times. They're incredibly spacious, like they're meant to hold twenty or so people rather than eight student council members.

"What's she here for?" a red-headed girl asks, sitting at the head of the table. She gives Hope a glance with neither contempt nor acceptance, but Hope still sits as far away from her as possible.

Josie pauses, contemplative, before she says, "Athletic representation."

Two people snort, and someone mutters 'bullshit,' which, if you ask Hope, isn't very student-council-member-like. Everyone else just stares on like they'd rather be at home. Josie looks at her expectantly, so she waves to the table at large. "Hi, I'm Hope."

"We know who you are," one girl says, a kind smile on her face, her Indian accent thick and her hair long. Hope smiles back. She loves kind people. "You won state last year, didn't you?"

"Oh, that," Hope says, a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, that was… Yes."

"This ‘athletic representation’ will really give us a new point of view," a blonde guy says sarcastically, but not maliciously. He pushes his glasses up his nose with one finger, and Hope finds herself thinking that the guy just looks cool. He's dressed in a button-up shirt, blazer tossed over the back of the chair, which he's leaning back in, perfectly balanced. Hope wishes she looked that cool in a button-up shirt, but she really just looks like a loser.

"Indeed it will," Josie says, nodding solemnly. Hope wants to interject and say no, actually, it won't, but the redhead brings the meeting to order before she can.

Hope still isn't sure why Josie wanted her to come, since the first twenty minutes are spent balancing her phone on her thigh trying her best to reply to Pen’s texts one-handed. She really only pays attention when Josie mentions her name, and it's usually to ask her opinion on something Hope's never even heard of.

"Tell us your opinion on women's suffrage, Hope," Josie says, fixing her with a pensive look. The rest of the council members snicker, a few leaning forward in their seats like they're saying this is gonna be good.

"I…" Hope gives Josie a somewhat panicked glance, but the girl stares on with bemusement. She hates her. "That's… not good? Women are great, they shouldn't… Yeah."

"Riveting," the blonde guy comments, delighted at Hope's lack of eloquence. "This is a great idea. I love athletic representation."

Josie smiles over at Hope, and even if she has no clue what's going on, Hope smiles back. "I love it, too."

Hope internally groans as her face heats up. Her blood vessels haven't been on her side since the day she met Josie. The smile doesn't go away, but Josie's eyes turn back to the redhead, who's looking increasingly more impatient as the minutes go on.

Hope texts Pen while Josie makes an argument for some voting method for homecoming—she's not really listening, but she likes the way Josie's voice sounds when she's passionate about something.

Hope: red fucking alert

Hope: Josie just implied she loves me

Pen: SAY IT BACK

Hope scowls at his phone. Pen didn't even ask for the story, much less the context.

Hope: she didnt mean it like that?

Pen: SAY IT ANYWAYS

Pen, Hope decides, is entirely unhelpful. When she glances up to check the status of the meeting, Josie is staring at her. Hope nods her head in lieu of a vocal hello, not wanting to disrupt the meeting, and Josie waves back in a way that probably only she notices. I'm bored, she mouths, which makes Josie break into a smile she tries to fight. Hope is distressed. Josie is pretty.

The meeting draws to a close after a grueling forty-five minutes of boring discussions Hope never wants to sit through again. Josie leaves after exchanging a round of goodbyes, hugging Stefanie goodbye. Hope must look disgruntled when Josie finally makes her way over to her, because right off the bat she tells her that Stefanie’s her cousin. "Not that you asked," she continues, but not without a smirk.

"I didn't," Hope agrees, returning the friendly wave that Stefanie and the kind girl send Hope on their way out of the room. "Look at me, making friends."

"Proud of you," Josie tells her, and Hope lifts her chin and smiles. "Come on, let's go."

They're the last people out, so Hope takes a few seconds to push all the chairs under the table and throw away a few ripped-up bits of a note sheet. Josie watches her with something that might be affection as she tidies up the room, and when she notices her gaze, she stands up straight and shrugs. "My mom taught me not to leave rooms all messy."

"Of course she did," Josie says, and yep, that's definitely a fond tone. Hope rubs an absent hand over her chest like it might make the constant warmth there go away.

They walk down the deserted hallways slowly, and Hope can't say that she's ever seen the school so empty. Her and Josie's footsteps echo, and the little squeak Hope's left shoe makes sounds more like a screech in the quiet.

Josie winces every time, and once they're out on the concrete steps in front of her school, she looks at Hope. "Remind me to buy you new shoes for Christmas."

"I'm a size six," she replies pleasantly, and Josie repeats it to herself, like she's actually memorizing it. Hope's never met anyone like Josie. Their cars are amongst the last left, and Hope walks Josie to her car even if her own is on the other side of the lot. "So… any plans for the rest of the night?"

Josie gives her a look that lets her know she isn't even a quarter as casual as she thinks she is. Hope takes it in stride, since Josie answers her question despite her glaring obviousness. "I planned on going home and finishing my book, unless someone has a better idea."

Hope supposes she's supposed to be that someone, but sadly, she hasn't thought this far ahead into the conversation. She fumbles, stammering out little nonsensical half-sentences, but Josie seems blissfully unbothered.

"We should go to the park," Josie suggests, in between Hope's mumbling. "The one you mentioned you and Pen liked?"

"Oh, yeah," Hope enthuses. "I haven't been there in forever. I heard they painted it. There's this one slide there—like, it's so sick. And the monkey bars are in an S-shape. So cool."

Josie smiles at her indulgently. "I'm excited, then. Lead the way."

"Right," Hope replies, taking a few steps backward. "I'm just gonna…" She trails off and jerks a thumb over her shoulder, and Josie nods and waves goodbye.

She jogs to his car, trying to get some of the hype out of her system. It's just Josie, she tries to tell herself, but her mind just says yes, I am aware, and that's why you're freaking out. She decides to stop trying to reason with her mind after that.

Josie follows her, driving a couple hundred feet behind her car like people are actually supposed to. She uses her blinker more times in the ten minute drive than Hope's used her entire week, probably.

After mistakenly running a light that turned yellow instead of thinking about the fact that Josie wouldn't be able to make it, she pulls over on the shoulder of the road and digs her phone out of her pocket and calls Pen.

"Yeah?"  
Pen sounds breathless. Hope doesn't want to ask. "Sorry for whatever I am most definitely interrupting—"

"You aren't, you aren't," Pen promises, but Hope hears rustling. "Just, um."

"Please, please spare me details," Hope says with a laugh. "You never did tell me about the first kiss though."

"It was nice," Pen says evasively. "Anyways, why'd you call?"

"I'm going to the park with Josie. I think it might be a date? If you squint, that is. And I don't think Josie's squinting."

Pen apparently sees it fit to relay this message to Maya, who coos a little and tells Hope to have fun. "Just be yourself," Pen says wisely, and while the advice would sound cliche coming from anyone else, Pen just sounds earnest. "Seriously, yourself is the best way to go. Josie likes you."

"Don't get my hopes up," Hope grumbles, glancing in her rear view mirror. Josie's car is rolling forward, clearly anticipating the light turning green, so Hope pulls off the shoulder and rides slowly in the right lane. "Just need a last minute pep talk?"

"You're a great person and your smile makes flowers grow," Pen recites, the same one-liner advice she's been giving Hope since their middle school days. They'd both had Ms. Faith for science, and she'd never hesitate to give her students outlandish little compliments and encouragements. She must have told Hope that her smile made flowers grow twenty times that year. The words make Hope grin a little, regardless of their peculiarity, and the last of the nervous energy dissipates. "Go get 'em."

"Thanks, love you," Hope says, hanging up and dropping her phone as Josie comes up behind her. The park's only a little ways down this road, and honestly Hope could have just texted Josie the last of the directions, but it's kind of nice to have Josie following her lead rather than the other way around, for a change.

She picks a parking spot that's as close as possible to the cool slide, and Josie parks two spots over. "You're taking up, like, three spaces," Josie informs her, once they've both stepped out of their cars.

Hope glances at her poor parking and shrugs. It's not like there aren't a few dozen other spots to choose from. "The park!" she proclaims, holding up a hand like she's Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune. She even pastes a smile on her face for good measure.

Josie brushes by her, patting the redhead’s lower ribcage as she goes. Hope's smile settles, falling into something more real and enamored, and she follows Josie as she loops around the park, taking it all in. "I have to admit," she starts, "I expected this park to be a lot more special, the way you talked it up."

"It's totally special," Hope defends, pointing at the slide. "Sick slide. Curvy monkey bars. Weird pointless dinosaur thing. Weird pointless cone-shaped thing."

Josie laughs at her poor attempts at selling the park, and Hope laces her fingers behind her back, thoroughly pleased. The sun's inching its way down, and Hope likes the half-purple, half-orange sky that's looming over them. "I'm going on that slide," Josie says, after a moment, taking off across the park. Hope jogs after her.

"It's so fun," Josie breathes a few minutes later, after her seventh time on the slide. Hope smiles and giggles, which would be embarrassing in itself if Josie didn't tease her about it not a moment later.

"I miss being a kid," Hope confesses, sitting at the end of the slide and stretching her legs out. When she was younger, she used to fall off the edge of slides, her legs hardly long enough to reach the sand.

"I don't," Josie says thoughtfully. "This is more fun now that I'm older."

"You think?"

"I know," she corrects. "I mean, when you're young, it's kind of all play. So when you're older and it's mostly work, you appreciate the play more."

"That's… true," Hope finishes lamely. Josie sends her a smile over her shoulder, and Hope breathes a sigh of relief when she finds her footing just before she trips. Blessed, she is.

Josie glances around the park before her gaze catches on the swings. Hope starts walking in that direction before Josie can even voice her next destination. "How are things with your dad?" she questions, kicking at the sand a little.

"It's good," Josie shares, nodding to herself. "I think it's getting better, at least. He thinks he's really onto some big scientific discovery and people are funding him now, so it isn't out of his pocket. He seems happier lately."

"You think he's met someone, maybe?" Hope asks cautiously. She and Josie have never really exchanged thoughts on their parents dating other people, so she's not sure how she'll react to the topic. The last thing she wants to do is upset her.

Thankfully, Josie just shrugs before she plops down on a swing. "That's definitely a possibility. My dad's more likely to get happy over reading a good sci-fi book, though."

Hope cracks a smile at that. "He seems really interesting, in a mad scientist kind of way."

"He's great," Josie says with conviction, turning to look at Hope. "Mom didn't give him enough credit, when they were together. He still cares about her, I think." Hope nods wordlessly, kicking off the ground to get a little higher. "And, I mean… They were really in love, or at least I like to think they were, it just started falling in on them. They both worked so much; hardly ever saw each other, and Mom would disappear for weeks at a time. I think Dad just felt lost to say the least, and my mom was stubborn enough to be secretive about it. It drove them apart in the end."

"Her stubbornness?" Hope asks. Josie nods. "That's rough."

"Yeah, but it's in the past. I just wish they could still be friends, if nothing else," Josie says, quietly, like it's something she hasn't let herself acknowledge until now. "It really sounds so whiny, because they're going through this really tough time and I'm over here complaining that my parents aren't friends after they went through a divorce."

"I think it's one of those things that takes time," Hope comments. "And you aren't whiny, I don't think. It's reasonable to wish your parents were still together in some way, shape, or form."

"Do you wish that for yours?"

"They weren't actually married," Hope shares, but she doesn't believe that's her point. "I mean, sometimes I do. Mom writes so many love stories; I'd like to see her actually get her happily ever after."

Josie coos at that, and Hope scratches the side of her face like it'll keep it from reddening. She probably just makes it worse. "That's sweet, Hope. She's really lucky to have you."

Hope shrugs, not really sure how to reply. She;s just as lucky, if not more, to have her mom. She's done everything she can for Hope, half the time making sacrifices just to make sure she was happy.

They swing in silence for a few minutes, but Hope quits because she hates the sound of the wind rushing past her ears. Josie snorts when she says so, but she stops swinging too and decides they should give the monkey bars a go.

Hope swings from bar-to-bar with ease, since she's had a ton of practice coming here with Pen, fucking around while her best friend burned a few cigarettes and stared at the sky like it had better answers than the ones in her head. She even turns and goes back, dropping down in front of Josie and gesturing to say your turn.

She stares up at them with a challenge in her eyes, like she can intimidate an inanimate object. Hope watches on. "I feel like this is going to be so much harder than you made it look," Josie muses, but she hops up and gets a grip on the first bar. Hope glances down in distress at the small strip of skin that exposes, and God, Josie's tan skin could potentially be her kryptonite, but she doesn't ogle her for long. It feels forbidden, or unwarranted, or something.

"Christ," Josie mutters, and Hope walks alongside her just in case she needs to catch her, which might be stupid because the fall is less than a foot. She's certainly holding her own, though. "Damn. This is hard."

"Do you play any sports?" Hope questions, out of the blue. It's something she'd always wondered but never asked.

"I played volleyball in middle school but I quit after I sprained my wrist," she says, a little breathlessly. She reaches for the next bar. "I did karate when I was little."

"Could you kick my ass?"

Josie peers down at her, and manages to look unamused even while she's struggling on children's playground equipment. "I could kick your ass with or without karate, you idiot."

Hope barks out a laugh at that, reaching out to steady Josie when she seems close to falling. She’s not sure why she seems so adamant about doing it, since it's not like they're in a serious competition, but Hope doesn't mention it. Josie's determination is a little cute.

"Get your hand off my hip," Josie says, swaying out of her grasp. "Don't distract me right now."

"My hands are a distraction?"

"Literally shut up," Josie nearly growls, attempting some of her hair out of her face but not really succeeding.

"I could figuratively shut up, too," Hope says, half-laughing.

Josie looks down at her with nothing short of exasperation. "I will kick you."

Hope beams up at her serenely, and Josie latches onto the next bar. She's two-thirds of the way there, and Hope believes in her. "I believe in you," she says out loud.

"Thanks, that's incredibly helpful right now," Josie huffs, glancing up at her hands like she's weighing her options. "This should not be as hard as it is."

"You're cu—funny. When you're frustrated." Hope sounds like an idiot. Josie seems to agree, because she chuckles and shakes her head at the blue-eyed girl.

"Nice save," she says wryly.

Hope blushes. She feels hot all over. "I wasn't going to say that," she lies.

"Right," Josie mutters. "What was it then? Am I cucumber when I'm frustrated?"

"Yes," Hope responds, or, rather, blurts. She's such an idiot. "Very," she tacks on, mouth dry. Her mouth feels like she just swallowed a whole bag of cotton.

Josie loses her grip on the bar, and Hope reacts before she can think about how stupid it is. It's barely a foot's fall; Josie would have landed safe and sound on her feet, and Hope wouldn't have ended up with her jaw barely an inch away from his mouth, one elbow hitting her shoulder hard.

"Ouch," Hope says. Her lips hit Josie’s skin when she speaks, and Hope tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

"God," Josie mutters, admitting defeat and dropping her other arm down to rest on her other shoulder. Thankfully, it's a little less bony and deathly.

They both fall quiet for a second, and Hope just closes her eyes since it's better than opening them and seeing nothing but Josie's brown curls. "Sorry," she says against her jaw, still clutching her tight to her chest. She could put her down—should put her down, but she can't force her limbs to cooperate with her brain.

"You just potentially saved me from spraining an ankle and you say 'sorry,'" Josie says disbelievingly. Hope can feel her jaw move as she talks, and if that isn't the absolute definition of torture, she's not sure what is. "Honestly, who are you?"

Hope laughs quietly, loosening her grip slowly until the brunette can reach the ground, gaining her footing. Josie's elbows stay propped up on her shoulders, hands absently sliding into Hope’s hair, and Hope could probably die happy. She’s so busy trying to catalog every place she and Josie are touching that she just barely remembers that she asked a question—one that definitely doesn't call for an answer, but one she answers anyways. "I'm Hope," she says, stupidly.

Josie uses her hair to guide her back a little, and Hope doesn't open her eyes. She’s enjoying the way she feels, for now—appreciating the way Josie's hands feel when she tugs at her hair gently, trying to memorize the bumps of the brunette’s spine she takes the time to run her knuckles over. Josie's close is the thing, and she might not be this way again, and Hope doesn't want to leave a blank space in her mind where she could have this memory.

When she does open her eyes, Josie's looking right at her. Like she was waiting for her to open her eyes, she speaks. "We could kiss right now."

Hope lets out a breath, one that comes out shakier than she planned, and she nods once. Josie's so blatant; so unapologetic and outspoken. Hope doesn't want to let her go, so she flattens her hand against the dip in her spine and nods again. "Yeah. Could."

Josie tucks her bottom lip into her mouth, slowly releasing it. Hope's dying a death that's certainly far from quick and painless. "Are we… Should we?"

"I don't know," Hope mutters, since her mind isn't functioning well enough to think up a better answer. Hope can't take her eyes off the brunette; she's scared she'll miss something, and she doesn't want to forget this. "I don't…" She trails off, shaking her head.

"I need an answer," Josie says, and she sounds rushed; urgent. Hope can't pull air into her lungs quite the way she should be able to.

"I don't know," Hope repeats, firmly. She exhales sharply, and she feels heavy and light at the same time. "I just know that I want to."

Josie leans closer, pressing her forehead against Hope’s. She feels dizzy, and she fists her hand in Josie’s jacket in an attempt to ground herself. Everything would be fine, if she could just breathe. "Do something," Josie suggests, and Hope is comforted by the fact that she isn't the cool, calm, unaffected Josie Saltzman right now. Her words don't come out even, and her breaths aren't a normal pace.

"You do something," Hope argues. Even if Josie's pressed up against her, hands buried in her hair—and she'd really only have to tilt her chin the slightest bit to slot their lips together—she's still scared she'll push her off. Actually getting this; actually knowing what Josie's skin feels like; actually hearing her breathlessly tell Hope to do something—this wasn't ever in the realm of possibility as far as she knew.

"I'm nervous," Josie whispers, but she's laughing. Hope smiles at the sound, and the tense air surrounding them loosens up a little, letting her access the oxygen she's used to. Josie presses her forehead harder against Jope’s before she says "I'm trying to push the responsibility off on you."

"I don't want it!" Hope replies, and they both laugh. Josie tips her head back, and Hope thinks no, come back even if it's only added an inch or two of space. "Okay."

"Okay," Josie echoes, clearly humored. "This is so stupid." She leans back into her, and their noses bump. Hope takes a moment to eskimo kiss her, half because Josie's nose is cute and deserves it, and half because she's always wanted to do that. It feels just as sweet and adorable as he thought it would. She can feel her smile, even if her eyes are shut. "Did you just…?"

"Yeah, sorry," Hope says quietly, and her stomach ties itself in knots when Josie’s lips touch the corner of her mouth. Hope tilts his head so she can kiss her properly, warmth spreading through her chest. Josie's lips are soft, just a little chapped from the cold air, and her hands are tugging the redhead closer and closer by her hair.

Hope pulls back and releases a sigh. "Good?"

"Great," Josie replies. "Why did you stop?"

"Wanted to make sure," Hope mutters, and it sounds foolish. She’s mostly too in love to care. "Can I…?"

"Yeah, of course, anything," she answers, all in one breath, leaning in and kissing her hard. "Within reason," she adds.

Hope smiles when she kisses her again, and Josie brings her elbows off her shoulders and skims her hands down her sides. She feels like she's in the ocean, and huge waves keep crashing into her before she can properly catch her breath. Josie isn't much help, either, making her gasp into her mouth when the brunette barely scratches over her collarbone; pulling the shorter girl’s bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth in a way that makes her knees go weak. Hope would've never looked at Josie Saltzman and think she'd kiss like this.

When she slips a hand under Hope’s hoodie, fingertips hinting at her ribcage, Hope closes her eyes tight and taps her back twice. Josie seems to understand, since she removes her hand immediately and reaches up to hold her face. "Sorry," she says. "I—sorry. Needed to quit for a second."

"Everything okay?" Josie asks, and when Hope opens her eyes, she's scanning her face worriedly, like she's actually done something wrong, like Hope doesn't love every second her hands are touching her skin.

"It's perfect," she tells her quietly, kissing the corner of her mouth sweetly. "I just don't want to do too much."

Josie nods, glancing away and making a little face like she's embarrassed. Hope reaches a hand up and touches her thumb where her dimples would be, if she were smiling. "I'm sorry."

"You're fine," Hope says, giving the brunette her best smile to show she means it. She returns it slowly. "I guess 'want' wasn't the right word; you know I want to, I just don't want us to think back on it later and which we'd gone slower. If that makes sense?"

"Since when are you the logical one?" Josie complains, burying her face in Hope’s shoulder. She kisses her collarbone quickly, and Hope gives a little grunt that's half a warning and half an encouragement.

"Don't," she tells her, but she's laughing when she says it, so it loses all it's sternness. "Kiss me up here." She lifts the shoulder that the other girl is resting on, and Josie's smiling when she kisses her cheek. Hope nods in approval, finally taking her eyes off Josie while she glances around. "It got dark."

"Time flies," Josie says airily, looking around herself. Hope hugs her close, just because she knows they're both about to leave, and she's too scared to ask what it all means. Josie doesn't really seem like the type to act like a kiss—or, she supposes, a series of hot and heavy kisses—didn't happen, but she doesn't seem like the type to acknowledge it immediately ever. And she doesn't want to be that person that asks for a label on a relationship before either party's had their chance to think it through. After all, it could have just been the late hour or the closeness that tipped the scale.

Hope just knows what she wants. And that's Josie, plainly, in whatever way she decides—friends or lovers, she'd live with one and be overjoyed by the other, but she won't let her hopes sway Josie's. "Should go," Hope mentions lowly; reluctantly. Now that she's held her, she doesn't want to spend much time not doing so.

"Yeah," Josie says, sounding as unwilling as she does. She steps back, and Hope's arms fall to her sides, like they aren't sure what to do with themselves if they aren't holding Josie. Which—that's ridiculous, Hope thinks, because she got by just fine before she got to kiss Josie, and she can survive the aftermath. "Walk me to my car."

She's so bossy, and Hope hates the fact that she's actually into it; hates how it's far up on the list of things she loves about Josie. She steps into place beside the brunette, and spends an insubordinate amount of time questioning whether or not she should grab her hand. In the end, she argues with herself that the walk isn't even that long, and it'd be pointless. Since her limbs have been known to take minds of their own, Hope shoves her hands into her hoodie pockets just to be safe.

Josie swings open her car door, but doesn't step inside her car. Hope stares at her for a second, and it's almost hard to believe that someone like Josie could be into someone like Hope. She feels so sub-par; feels like she's such a step down from Josie's typical confidence and her bright laughs and intimidating eyes. She knows she's not, not really, and it's all just a matter of perception (or at least that's what Pen tells her when Hope lets her self-esteem get the better of her), but Hope can't help but be a little awed.

"Kiss me goodnight," Josie demands, a small little smirk hinting at her lips. Hope wants to kiss her, and she does.

"I'll see you," she promises, glancing from her lips to her eyes. "Soon."

"Monday?"

"It's Friday," Hope informs her, like Josie isn't aware of the day of the week.

"I know," Josie replies, raising an eyebrow. "I just thought you'd want more… Time. To think about it."

"Think about it?"

"Like"—Josie wrings her hands together, uncharacteristically fidgety—"about us. And all that."

"Of course I want to think about it," Hope tells her, smiling softly. "But I can also think while hanging out with you. Or doing economics homework. We don't have to, like, keep away from each other or anything. I like being around you."

"Me too." Her eyes are wrinkling at the sides, and Hope takes a deep, deep breath, because she's a pretty strong-willed person and she doesn't have to kiss the corners of her eyes, no matter how much her brain is telling her to. "Tomorrow?"

"That sounds nice," Hope says, nodding a few times as she taps one of Josie's dimples with her index finger. "Don't want to leave, now."

"You're the one who tapped out," she tells her brattily, but kisses her quickly to show she doesn't mean it. She shoves Hope backwards, albeit gently and probably half-heartedly. "Get out of here."

"I'm going, I'm going!" Hope holds her hands up as a white flag, buts he ducks in one last time to kiss her. Josie kisses her back and pushes her away at the same time, and Hope laughs when she groans, like she’s the most annoying thing the brunette has ever happened upon. "I'm really leaving," she tells her, catching one of her hands in hers. They're still soft which makes Hope's heart clench a little. "I'm honestly going."

"I can tell," Josie deadpans, reluctantly pulling her hand out of Hope’s grasp and getting into her car. "Goodnight, Hope."

She smiles, crossing one arm over her chest and waving with the other. "Night, Josie."

She closes her car door and pulls away, and Hope watches her brakelights until she takes a turn and they disappear from view. She takes a moment to text Pen a vague emoji string that consists of a thumbs up, a smiling face, and a green heart. Pen will have to read between the lines. Or between the tiny images. Whatever.

Josie texts her to let her know that she got home safe, something she'd started doing a while ago even if she never had the guts to ask. She reads the text three times, even if it just says I'm home, see you tomorrow, and falls asleep with her phone on her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt the need to not only update but give you all a hosie kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> twitters: @_talkingsweet & @rainsofneptune


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